Imagine
by Petworth
Summary: What if Martin had left for London at the end of Season 4, leaving Louisa to bring up James? My thanks to GriffinStar for her excellent story, Blood Will Out, which explores this idea and made me want to look at other possibilities.
1. Chapter 1

**The TV show "Doc Martin" and its cast of delightful characters are the property of Buffalo Pictures.**

**Thank you for reading and I appreciate your feedback. **

Martin and I were at our son's wedding holding hands, sitting on the groom's side of the church, watching his bride glide up the aisle to meet him. I turned away from looking at Rosie and stared at my son. Tall, handsome, impeccably dressed in a navy suit, white shirt and navy tie; his blonde hair, cropped short at the sides, glistened from the late evening sun streaming through the stained glass windows.

My mind went back to another wedding that never was. Time stood still as I looked at James, seeing the same calm, yearning blue grey eyes, as if it were Martin's watching me walking up the aisle to meet him at the altar on that fateful day.

The alarm almost sent me off the bed. The clock read 7am. There was no wedding, not now anyway. James was preparing for his final exams, after which he would go on to specialist studies in Cardiology. Imperial Hospital had already accepted him into the programme. He and Rosie, his on-and-off girlfriend and fellow medical student at Imperial, had so little time to spare. Marriage might be in the cards, but not until he had finished his studies. Like his father, James was gifted, focused and determined to excel. He had brought Rosie down to Portwenn a few times. I liked her.

She reminded me of myself. Opinionated, headstrong and had a great sense of humour. Not sure if I'm still that kind of person. Life had taken its toll.

I reached for James's latest text which I had printed and kept by my bedside.

_Dad helped me a lot. I'm glad you two remained civil all these years. We had a rocky start but now that I'm in his world, I understand and appreciate him a lot better. He can be gruff, you know that, but he has mellowed quite a bit. I have accepted him as my dad because for the last five years he has been everything I could have hoped for in a father. He works too hard, though. I worry about him …I know you're going through a rough period since Dad passed. The trip will do you good. See you at graduation. _

I cannot count the tears I have shed in the last two years. Once again, I was on my own. I missed Nathan but it was for the best. His last months had been full of suffering. The grim reaper came in the form of pancreatic cancer that was swift and lethal. In six months, he went from a healthy athletic man, even for his age, to a bedridden suffering husband with no chance of recovery. Looking back, there had been the disregarded warnings – the fatigue and depression that had set in at least two years before the doctors gave him the diagnosis. His illness had started our long goodbye as he refused to discuss his symptoms with me or James and even during treatment, he shared little.

After Martin drove out of Portwenn never to return but for a few times when Auntie Joan was ill and for her funeral, I looked for a father for James. Nathan was a good man. Not the love of my life as Martin was, but a good father.

Most everyone in the village thought I had made a sensible choice in marrying Nathan for companionship and to give my son a father. Seems they too knew that my first love was Martin and maybe would always be. In time, I came to care for Nathan. He was outgoing, made me laugh (and forget), liked James immediately and with him in my life, I had the family I had always wanted. He loved James and I loved him especially for that. James adored him. In time he knew that he was not his biological dad, but he was the only dad he had ever really known.

In the last weeks of Nathan's life, the school had granted James special leave, thanks to Martin's intervention, to spend time with us at the hospice. Before he arrived, Nathan and I sat holding hands as he lay propped up against me in his bed.

"It's not too late."

"What is not too late?" I asked confused.

"It's not too late for you to find love again. Please Louisa, I don't want you to be alone. I love you too much."

Fear gripped me thinking that these would be his last words. "Should I call the nurse? Are you feeling worse?" Terror and tears mingled on my face.

He squeezed my hands gently. "Louisa, we have always known I was not your first love. I'm grateful that you made space in your heart for me and that we had a good life. Time is the great healer. Martin is back in James's life. They have made their peace with each other and James has found space in his heart for both of us. Go to his graduation. Martin will be there. Try to make your peace with him. If there's any chance that you can get back into each others lives, in whatever way, grab it. Life is too short to live with what ifs."

"Shush," I begged.

He gathered his strength and reached up to cradle my face. "It's been a privilege sharing our lives. Now it's time for you to see what else life has in store for you."

He stopped short as James walked through the door. He gave Nathan a clinical gaze, assessing him medically as he came towards us. Coming to the bed, he sat down softly, sweeping us up his long arms. We stayed that way for a long time not saying a word. We were a family. Tears clouded my eyes as I remembered us huddled together on the narrow bed that bitter winter morning.

Looking at the clock again, I realized it was time to get dressed, eat and run a few errands. I pushed the memory away of that weekend when James and I said a tearful goodbye to Nathan as he took his last breath hours after James had walked through the door.

My tired, thin face framed by thick hair that was more grey than auburn, looked back at me from the bathroom mirror.

Enough of this daydreaming woman. Life has been kind to you despite everything. You gave James the family you never had. You have been blessed with a loving, supportive husband. For someone nearing 60, you're not looking bad. Lots of living left in you.

By 9 am, I was meeting with the solicitor, Mr. Daniels, who was handling the sale of our lovely house with the big garden that Nathan and I had purchased in which to raise James. Martin had contributed a hefty sum on the grounds that it was his responsibility to James. I had put it up for sale a few months ago and rented a small cottage a little outside the village. The memories were too much. Plus, it was too large for me alone.

Since London seemed to be where James would be for a long time, I had thought about moving there to be near him and any future grandchildren. That thought didn't last long. Maybe I could move an hour away to Truro where it would be easier for me to find something to occupy myself.

After retiring early as headmistress of Portwenn Primary, I had gone on to acquire a post-grad degree in Special Education, after which I had worked for many years as a consultant - two days in Truro, three days at home.

When Nathan became ill, I had taken family leave and had never gone back. Nathan's death was physical, mine was emotional.

A young couple was interested in the house and Mr. Daniels wanted me to meet them. Tim, Anne and their seven year-old son, Billy, looked up as I walked into his office. I liked them immediately.

After the formalities, I got to talking to Billy. "My son was about your age when we moved here. Do you think you will like living here?"

"I like your house and Mummy says I can have your son's bedroom. Did your son like his room?"

"He loved it. We had to keep putting in extra bookshelves to hold his collection of books about science and dinosaurs, lots of school trophies and electronic gadgets. He's living in London and studying to become a doctor. What do you want to be when you grow up?

"I don't know yet, but I like all the things your son likes so maybe I will be a doctor someday."

With that, he shouted to his parents, "Daddy, mummy, when I grow up, I'm going to be a doctor like Mrs. Tiggle's little boy."

"Yes, maybe you will," his mum responded ruffling his red hair and pulling him in for a hug. I looked at the family wistfully. Hope they will be happy in this house.

The arrangements made for a last walk through tomorrow, Saturday, after which Mr. Daniels would handle the legal matter to complete the sale, I picked up a salad and baked fish then walked the short distance home.

For the second time that day, I scrutinized myself in the mirror: gently lined face, still twinkling blue eyes and my battle scars - laugh lines around my eyes and lips. I still kept my hair in a ponytail. I never outgrew that hairstyle. It was easy to maintain and made me feel young.

You're vain, I told my reflection as I giggled at the old … no … mellow middle-aged woman in the mirror.

This time, I was getting dressed for a celebration dinner at the home of Chris and Jenny Parsons in honour of Laura's first child. Laura was the youngest of their three children.

In time, Chris became a surrogate dad to James. Whether out of guilt about his friend's desertion or just genuine goodness, he had stepped in where Martin felt he could not. Over the years, we had developed a firm bond. When medical issues came up with James and even Nathan, Martin gave over-the-phone advice and Chris helped to get us the attention we needed.

Chris had retired early, but stayed in Truro because that was where his life was. Jenny had been ill a few years back, with a long hospital stay and recuperation at home that had pretty much ended her career as a clinical psychologist. We had become close friends over many evenings spent discussing the arc of our lives, or just sharing girlie gossip over a bottle of wine.

Giving myself one last look in my full length mirror, I tugged at my green fitted dress which hugged me discretely, enough to show off my still shapely body. It didn't fit as well as it used to because I had lost some weight. I worried about the future constantly. Hopefully tonight would cheer me up. I applied my favourite red lipstick, wiggled my feet into my red suede ankle boots, gave my ponytail one last toss and got my car keys. But before I reached the door, I stopped to take off my wedding band, slipped it in my handbag and left for the hour's ride to Truro.

Jenny had begged me to consider meeting someone again and had pointed out that my wedding band would turn off potential suitors. Fat chance of finding anyone in the village, Truro, Cornwall or anywhere else for that matter. Not at my age. But ...I guess it's time to move on. As I slowed down to watch the seagulls coming in over the water after their southern migration, I envied the predictable rhythm to their lives. At least nature had gotten it right.

As I parked, I steeled myself for whatever was ahead. Family gatherings still made me sad. Joan had been my only other family, but she had passed years ago. I was happy she had lived long enough to be with me for the birth of James Henry, enjoy being his Granma, babysit him and watch him going off to school. Through it all, she had been my comfort. In her no-nonsense way, she had even encouraged me to find James a father and a companion for myself.

As I stepped through the door, Chris and Jenny greeted me warmly. They were the picture of contentment in a marriage that had not been without its battles, but they wore their scars well. Jenny was tall, slim with a crowning glory of flowing curly silver white hair and was still a great beauty. Chris was now trim and slim after having health issues a few years back necessitating surgery. Martin had done the surgery for him in London, and given him a life-time prescription that required healthy eating and exercise.

"I see you have come out of mourning, and about time. You look stunning," Jenny said with an exaggerated wave of her hand at my outfit and a smirk as she spotted the white mark where my ring used to be. We hugged each other as dear friends and they ushered me into the lounge. Both excused themselves to finish up in the kitchen.

"No, no. Let me help. You go and greet your guests. I'll finish up," I offered like any old friend would. I knew that although the doctor had declared Jenny cancer-free many years ago, she still tired easily.

"Oh, no. You go mingle. You need the break," she insisted, pushing me gently in the direction of the lounge.

I looked over the room, nodded and smiled at the other guests, mostly family members, and turned to reach for the glass of wine someone was handing me. I looked up to say thanks, and then the room started spinning. I gripped the glass to steady myself, then felt it slipping from my hand.


	2. Chapter 2

As the fog cleared, I realized that someone had propped me up with cushions in a chair in the study. Jenny was kneeling besides me holding my hand and Chris was smiling reassuringly at me. "I know it was a shock, but you will be fine."

I looked around the room searching for the face I had glimpsed as I reached for the glass

"Martin! "

"Louisa … I'm sorry ... I didn't mean for this to happen." He was holding my other hand. Actually, he was feeling for my pulse as he sat in a chair beside me.

I panicked. "Is something wrong with James? Did you come to break the news to me?" I tried frantically to sit up and climb out from under the fog that had settled over me, but my body was in too much shock to move.

He gave my hand a surprisingly soft squeeze and in his slow, measured doctor voice said, "James is fine."

I persisted. "Where is James?"

"It's alright Louisa, he's here with me." He squeezed my hand again and leaned in to me with a tiny glimmer of a smile. "He did his last exam this morning and offered to drive me down … He wanted to surprise you."

I looked around the dimly lit room and saw James smiling at me from the doorway. Chris and Jenny were no longer in the room. And that's when I broke down and everything blacked out again.

I heard Frank Sinatra's mellow voice crooning:

_Some enchanted evening_

_You may see a stranger, you may see a stranger_

_Across a crowded room. _

I had always liked _South Pacific_ since Dad had taken me to see the movie in Truro as my birthday treat. The notes were soaring around in my head, sweeping me up until I was floating. The room was spinning and I was whirling around with it trying to stay upright. Auntie Joan looked at me strangely. "Louisa, what on earth is wrong with you? Get a grip." Bert, from his perch on the porch at High Trees where he liked to sit and watch the comings and goings, lowered his voice conspiratorially. "James is grown. Time for you to find another good man. You're still a sight for sore eyes, girl." He always looked out for me since I was a little girl.

James was tugging at me, pulling me from out of the clouds. I held his hands as I struggled to come down. "Mum, you fainted. Here, drink this." I gulped down the water that was at my lips, coughed, then struggled up into a sitting position.

Trying to regain some dignity, I looked at Martin apologetically. "I'm sorry to cause this bother. I thought something was wrong with James and I was so surprised to see you."

That was the understatement of the century. They smiled with relief, I guess. Passing out twice within minutes wasn't a good sign.

Even in my dazed state, I could not keep my eyes off Martin. He had aged, but in a distinguished way. His hair was fully iron grey, his face gently lined but softened by his quiet smile as he looked me over. It made him look so much younger. And those lips …. No, this wasn't right. I had just buried my husband, it was too soon to feel what I was feeling. But I couldn't stop myself. His beautiful bluey grey eyes were soft, concerned and shy, all at the same time.

Time had been kind to him. Never one with a weight issue, he was slimmer than I remembered but with the same erect posture. I longed to touch him, run my fingers through his hair, press my lips against his, hold him close and feel his arms around me. Instead, I just stared, trying to hold myself together as my stomach did Olympic worthy somersaults and my body trembled in shock.

He didn't have on his usual formal suit. Oh, my God. That IS a change. He was attired for the occasion but not like your everyday bloke. His finely tailored casual navy suit, cream shirt open at the neck, navy shoes and a platinum wrist watch with intricately constructed links, quite in vogue, were the work of the best London outfitter. His hair was not as brutally short as I remembered. It had some length at the back and curled around his head a little. His successes and travel must have loosened him up. Still the same authoritative presence though. He looked confident and relaxed.

James was a younger version of his dad. Oh, he now called Martin "Dad." I was glad for that. What he got from me in abundance was a ready smile that he now flashed at me as he sat on the other chair next to mine.

"Mum, you have to stop worrying so much."

"I'm not worrying," I retorted indignantly. "I just wasn't expecting to see either of you, certainly not your father."

"Sorry, Mum."

"It was my idea to surprise you. I missed you a lot," James teased as he tugged at my ponytail.

I considered the bizarre turn of the evening and tried to regain some control. "I'm happy to see you both, but we shouldn't stay here. Don't want to seem rude," I said with a forced smile. My heart was thumping away and I really wanted to lie down. I still felt as if I was floating and wasn't sure that this was real. Maybe my constant worrying had gotten the better of me and I had gone Bodmin.

Martin motioned to James. "Please hold the fort for us. I'll watch over your mum for a bit. When I'm sure she's fully recovered, we will join you."

I was speechless. Was this the man I hadn't seen since Joan's funeral now taking charge as if we had shared a cup of tea only this morning? He saw my expression and smiled with a tiny hint of apology which I found endearing.

"Sorry. You gave us a scare twice, on after the other. I remember you were prone to fainting spells. When was the late time you ate?"

"At lunch. I have been busy today and I haven't had much of an appetite," I trailed off defensively.

He gently reached for my wrist, took my pulse again. Still holding my hand, he sat staring at me until he caught himself and muttered. "Still a little fast."

Suddenly, I was shy. I could not hold his gaze. I looked past him to a spot across the room.

"It's not the end of the world if you haven't eaten since lunch." His smile softened his words.

I nodded numbly.

"Although," he continued, "that was some time ago. Are your intervals between meals usually this long? I remember you used to have issues with your sugar levels."

He remembered!

"No, no, I was busy today. Trying to get my house sale completed." Bloody hell, why was I blabbering away as if he would be interested.

He looked startled. "Then where will you live.?

"I'm not sure. No, no, I'm renting now. I'm fine thank you."

Martin said nothing further. My breathing was now interfering with my speech and my eyes remained frozen on him. Neither of us said anything, just drank in each other as the years rolled away in the Parsons's study.


	3. Chapter 3

**The TV programme "Doc Martin" and its cast of delightful characters are the property of Buffalo Pictures.**

**Thank you for reading and I appreciate your feedback. **

Martin had returned to London this morning from a conference in Belgium where the media had received his presentation with their usual adulatory reviews. Legendary surgeon that he was, he was a fixture in medical journals all over the world, even into semi-retirement. His books and research papers were required reading at most medical schools and his research team was composed of some of Great Britain's finest surgical minds.

Some attributed his success to his natural brilliance, enhanced, they thought, by his not having the distractions of a family. Those familiar with his fall from grace to haemophobia, medical purgatory in Cornwall, Phoenix-like rise to the top of his profession and the circumstances of his son joining him in London, knew better. What was certain was that seismic changes had taken place in Martin's life and only a very few knew how it had come about.

Martin had left Belgium to join James immediately following his presentation. James was a brilliant student, who had sailed through high school, skipping two years, and Imperial had accepted him despite his young age. Martin knew the exams were grueling and thought his place was with him.

Given a second chance at fatherhood when James came to London to try to get into Imperial, Martin had given this new responsibility his all. Whatever he decided to do, he did exceedingly well. They had a rocky start, but because their minds worked the same way, they had forged a relationship based first on respect for each other's intellect, then as father and son.

James missed Nathan and Louisa. Yet, he secretly revelled in the anonymity London offered him. The city's sights and sounds were so different from what he had experienced in the village. Medical school and the challenges Martin seemed to enjoy throwing at him were all welcome. He never minded the challenges because he knew it would make him a better student and eventually a good doctor.

Initially, he didn't want anyone to associate him with Martin. That was hard, you couldn't miss the resemblance. Martin too wished to keep their relationship a secret lest anyone think James was getting a pass. That too was futile. Despite their different surnames, they were mirror images of each other physically and intellectually.

What James appreciated most about Martin was that he was a good listener and a great teacher. He could be brusque and gruff, but with him, he was patient. Over time, James felt comfortable opening up to him. Eventually, they began sharing stories about their lives. Martin disclosed bits and pieces about his dismal childhood. James talked about his happy childhood but never mentioned that he always wondered why his biological father was not a part of his life.

One day, out of the blue, James shared his concern about his mum. "I'm worried about her although she tries to put on a brave face. Dad is having unexplainable bouts of illnesses with cancer-like symptoms. Neither of us can get him to see a doctor."

"Fear can be worse than the disease. If it is what you think it is, I'll have a word with Chris. They get along well. I'll also find some literature that you can share with your mum to help her deal with what's ahead."

Martin had been overjoyed to talk to Louisa when she had called a couple of years ago, almost in tears, about Nathan's reluctance to see his doctor. She had asked him not to say anything to James about her call. On reflection he thought she must have been very worried and not thinking straight. Surely she knew that James was a bright, observant medical student and would have done his own research on Nathan.

As he remembered that call, he waited for James to continue but he didn't.

They fell into the comfortable silence that had developed between them. Like his father, James was a man of few words.

"Dad, what would happen if Mum were suddenly alone?"

They stared at each other. James realized he had called Martin "Dad" and looked away embarrassed. Martin said nothing, trying to process what had just happened. He touched him on his shoulder.

"Uhm ... I don't mind being called Dad. I know it is odd to call two people in your life, Dad, but ..." That was the beginning of a bond that neither thought was possible.

Looking at Louisa staring at him with worried eyes and with all the memories rushing around in his head, Martin shook the cobwebs away. No point in him thinking of this evening as anything more than a chance meeting. Too much water under the bridge.

Louisa was still the beauty he remembered from their first meeting on a plane, on his way to interview for the GP position in Portwenn. She had blossomed and aged gracefully with an allure that only age could pull off, he thought. Thanks to what might have been the good Cornish air and fresh food, she looked younger than her years. Her face did look a little drawn and although her eyes had a sadness to them, they still twinkled. She was thinner than he remembered. Her grey-streaked hair was still in the ponytail that he had always loved. And, God, she was so stylishly dressed in an edgy kind of way.

He longed to touch her, hold her in his arms and beg forgiveness for all the pain he had caused her and their son.

Martin had never stopped loving Louisa. He had been with a few partners here and there, but none had developed into a lasting relationship. Nobody could take Louisa's place in his heart, yet she was always outside his reach thanks to his misguided rejection of her. Then, there was her husband. But now …Like Jenny, he had noted her naked ring finger.

Surely Jenny or Chris could have warned him, he fumed to himself. What he didn't know was that Jenny had panicked when he had arrived a little ahead of Louisa. Chris didn't see a problem and had suggested that Jenny keep one of them busy.

She had pushed a tray in his hands and told him to make himself useful. To Jenny, Martin was just a regular friend. His fame didn't mean zilch to her. Without thinking, he had offered a drink to the first person he met. As the glass fell from Louisa's hand, he had looked closely and realized it was really her and only caught her before she fell to the floor on the shattered glass. In shock himself, he had scooped her up and carried her into the study at the same time that James, Chris and Jenny had come running to see what was happening.

His heart too was thumping away and he had to exercise extraordinary control to slow down his breathing. He shook his head, looked away, then turned his gaze on Louisa again. He remembered how grateful he had always been for her efforts to stay civil with him and to keep him in James's life; and how much she had appreciated his help when she had called him in a panic about illnesses or other matters. This all seemed such a long time ago, now that James was living in London. Was it really possible? He was an old man, albeit in perfect health and still an extremely valued surgical consultant.

Ever the pragmatist, he pressed her hand gently and said, "If you're sure you feel well enough, let's join the others. I'll get you a cup of tea and some crackers. The carbohydrate will bring up your blood sugar."

Louisa took the hand he offered her. It was an effort to get up from the sofa. Her feet felt as if it too had stopped working.

Chris and Jenny exchanged glances as Martin and Louisa walked into the lounge. In their defense, they hadn't thought it wise to alert Louisa about Martin as they weren't sure that he could make it. Over the years, Martin had visited the Parsons's, mostly on medical business, and never once had Louisa's name been mentioned. This visit was different because Laura held a special place in Martin's heart, but he was never Mr. Sentimental, or so they thought.

Looking at them, Chris and Jenny saw that Martin and Louisa still had feelings for each other. Did they realize it, though?


	4. Run run

After toasting the youngest member of the Parsons's clan, Chris took the liberty of raising his glass to Martin, Louisa and James. A few people knew the Martin and Louisa story. What most didn't know was that she had been a widower for over two years. Still fewer knew that James and his dad had mended whatever rift had existed between them.

"Martin Ellingham, vascular surgeon and someone I'm proud to call my friend for over 40 years, is here to keep a promise he made to Laura on her thirteenth birthday. Please raise your glass to my friend and colleague, Mart. Please also raise your glass to James, Martin and Louisa's son, who for all practical purposes is on his way to following in his father's footstep as a distinguished surgeon."

A cheer went up, quite startling baby Martin who let out a loud wail. There were cries for "speech, speech" in Martin's direction. Everyone was taken aback when James stepped forward.

"Before my Dad speaks, I want to thank you for your kind words, Uncle Chris. However, one step at a time. I have a long way to go. Mum, thanks for believing in me. Dad, thanks for your patience and for making me the person I am today. Please raise your glass to my parents."

Before anyone had lowered their glass, James raised his glass again. "This is for my other Dad to whom I owe so much." The lounge erupted in the softest of murmurs. Two dads?

Everyone then looked at Martin. Chris smiled encouragingly. In his clear, rich voice, Martin began. "Chris and Jenny, thanks for being my friend and for making me Laura's godfather. To James whom I love dearly, my best wishes for continued success in the path you have chosen. Louisa, thanks for giving me a wonderful son and for keeping me in his life even when I didn't trust myself to be the father he wanted."

With moist eyes, Martin drew James, then Louisa, to him in a hug. When they parted, there were few dry eyes in the room. Certainly not the Parsons's. Nobody, not even Chris who had lived through every Martin and Louisa drama, then every James and Martin trauma, could believe what was happening before them. His very private friend had poured out his heart for all to see. Louisa could not believe what had just happened. Martin making a speech, tearing up in public? This was the first time she had heard him talk at such length, in public, outside of medical matters. Who was this new Martin?

After dinner, Chris and Martin retired to the study. Louisa found herself wedged between Jenny's talkative cousin and a slightly hard-of-hearing next door neighbour. She tried to join their conversation about TV reruns of _House of Cards_, but gave up with a laugh when the neighbour asked her to repeat what she had said one time too many.

Bored, she allowed dark thoughts to enter her head. Chris and Jenny could have told her that they had invited Martin. Why didn't they warn her? It would have spared her from embarrassing herself by fainting, twice, and having to deal with Martin. Suddenly, she didn't trust herself. No, she would not break down in front of everybody. No way was anybody going to feel sorry for her. She muttered her excuse, binned her half-eaten dinner, held her head high, and walked out of the lounge.

Once outside, she looked down a well-lit path leading to the back of the house and remembered that the Parsons used to keep horses at the back of their property. Threading carefully on the dew-wet grass so as not to mess up her favourite boots, she walked as fast as she could. Feeling her eyes beginning to flood, she began running until she found a bench partly hidden by a high shrub. She sat down, grateful for the privacy. Seeing Martin had brought on unwelcome thoughts which came spilling out in the safety of the semi-darkness of her hiding place - James has a promising life in London. My friends are busy with their families. Chris and Jenny have grandchildren to dote on. I don't even have a place to call home. Why did Nathan have to leave? Why does everybody leave? Overcome with emotions, she hid her face in her hands crying silently until she heard footsteps coming in her direction.

"Louisa, don't run away. Please don't run away from me."

Squaring her shoulders, she looked up indignantly. "I'm not running away from you or anybody." The cheek of him.

Martin saw her tear-streaked faced and wisely ignored it. "Look, I know this evening has been difficult. It has been for me. I knew you were close to Chris and Jenny, but I never thought you would have come all the way from the village this evening."

"They are my friends. Plus I needed to get away from the village for a bit."

"Don't you like it there?" He was curious.

"It's not about liking or not liking. I came hoping to have a little laugh, some company. It's been a long time Martin. The village is still a wonderful place if you don't mind the holiday crowd and the townies who come down to their second homes to play at being villagers. It is my home."

"May I join you?"

"Please." Louisa moved down on the bench and made space for him.

They sat for a while until Martin reached for her hand and covered it with his. Lifting her chin with his fingers so she would look at him, he said, "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"I'll be here until Sunday morning. If you would allow me, I would like to take you out tomorrow."

A date? She looked at the man she had almost married, who she knew had loved her, yet had left her to raise their child alone. Can I blame him? He was never the father type. From the little I know about his dad, he was lousy and so was mine. He might not have been there for James physically, but he excelled in other areas where he felt competent. I guess this is why I never hesitated to send James to him because I knew that deep down, he was a good man. We are both up in age, does the past really matter now? He doesn't even sound like the man I once knew.

Her first impulse was to tell him no. What was the point? She got a little cross thinking that he just wanted to waltz back into her life as if nothing had happened. But because she was curious to learn more about this new Martin, she summoned her calmest voice and said, "I'll go out with you tomorrow if you promise not to ask too much of me."

Martin squeezed her hand and said, "Thank you."

They felt the electricity between them when their hands met, but stayed silent lost in thought.

James had seen his mother leave and his father going after her. He knew enough about their history to understand the turmoil their meeting would have caused. Chris came over and steered him into the study. "We need to talk." At first, it was only about Medicine. Talking to James, reminded Chris of how he met Mart and how their friendship developed. James was just as brilliant as his dad. He marveled at the similarity between them and wondered if he shouldn't have branched out into Genetics instead of Administration. He smiled ruefully.

"Why are you smiling?"

"You're not only the spitting image of Mart, you're as brilliant as he was at your age. Thanks for bringing him down to Cornwall. Laura is so proud to show off her son to her godfather. She has always worshiped him." They chuckled at the thought of another Martin.

Chris offered, "I didn't plan this. It never crossed my mind. I had gotten used to having a separate friendship with your mum and dad. Never saw today happening, them being in the same room, in Cornwall. Can't say I'm sorry though. Those two have a spark between them that nothing seem able to quench, not even time."

"Uncle Chris, don't go playing matchmaker. They are grown and set in their ways. I'm worried about them, and for the same reason. They are both alone, but that's no reason to try to resurrect something that might have died with my birth. I'll settle for friendship. Their lives have taken such different paths, plus their different personalities … not a chance in hell. I can't imagine it."

"James, don't get ahead of yourself."

James interrupted him. He too was in a bit of a turmoil with how the evening had turned out and didn't trust himself to talk about it. Had he known this was going to happen, he would have made Martin take the train down as he had planned. Being witness to his parent's relationship drama was painful. He should have joined Rosie and his friends back in London at their celebration party. She had begged him to stay but he was so grateful that his dad had come back to London early that he had offered to drive him to Cornwall. All he had wanted was to see the Parsons, his second family, then go home to Portwenn to chill with his mum and enjoy her home-cooked meals. She hadn't even told him that she would be here. Why? why me? je groaned silently.

"I'll go find them. it's a long drive to Portwenn. I'll drive Mum's car and give Dad mine. He's tired from his trip and the drive down."

Chris put his arm around his shoulder James was like a son to him, a treasured son. "You have done your parents proud. Don't worry about them, just continue to love them."

James wished he could believe in fairy tale endings. If his biological parents got back together, he could live with that. Were they ever together, though? He would have to ask them some tough questions. Between them, he had heard snippets of their tortuous short-lived romance but pieces of the jigsaw puzzle were missing.

Louisa broke the silence. "I am glad to see you."

"Me, too." Martin was still a man of few words.

Louisa appreciated the invitation. While she still had her wits about her, she cautioned, "I must warn you, I'm very fragile. Seeing you and James came as a shock. I don't know what to make of it. Fact is, I haven't known what to make of anything for a long time."

"Everything will be alright Louisa. I thought that tomorrow when you're rested would be a good time to talk."

She nodded her agreement. "I want to talk too."

Raising his brow in surprise, Martin continued. "The years have given me time to look back on my time in the village and what might have been between us. Having James with me has forced me to change for the better, I hope." He cleared his throat nervously as he gathered the courage to say what he had wanted to say all these years. .

"What hasn't changed is my feelings about you."

She held up her hand unwilling and unable to take it all in. Determinedly, he held her hand tight. "I have never stopped loving you even when I knew it was not the right thing to do. Seeing you this evening brought back memories, many of which I would like to forget, but so many I don't want to ever forget."

"That's nice to hear, Martin," was all she could say with more sorrow than bitterness.

As they walked back to the house, they could hear a sing-along of John Lennon's _Imagine_ coming from the lounge. Louisa heard Martin singing. Well, really, it was more of a humming and he seemed unaware that she was there. His voice was so low that she had to lean forward to guess the words: "_You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one_." She stopped in her tracks. Martin humming a romantic song about being a dreamer. A dreamer! She couldn't think of anyone more earthbound than Martin and began giggling. Not realizing that she had heard him, Martin looked puzzled and only picked up what was happening when she tried to finish the song with "... _I hope someday you'll join us and the world will be as one_."

To be continued ...


	5. Take time

Louisa and James were lost in thought as they took the narrow roads back to the village. "Mum, why did Dad abandon us?

"What?" Louisa snapped back to the present. She had been wondering what to make of Martin's singing. Were they dreamers? Could it be that they were dreaming about the same thing? "Abandon? It's a long story."

"You can start now. I leave on Sunday."

"It won't take that long."

"Were you together while you were pregnant with me and then he upped and left?" James pressed.

For the next hour, hidden by the darkness in the car, Louisa shamefacedly explained her role in Martin's return to London. After they had succumbed to their fears and did not turn up for their wedding, she fled to London without telling him. When she discovered that she was pregnant, she only told him when she returned to the village six months pregnant.

"Mum, how could you? That wasn't fair to Dad."

"I'm sorry James, so sorry."

She told James about her own childhood, of being abandoned first by her mother, and then, de facto, her father. This had forced her to look after herself from an early age. As a result, it was hard for her to trust anyone. After James was born, she had wanted to reach out to his father but stubborn pride and fear of rejection held her back. When Joan was ill and Martin came to visit, she invented excuses as to why he couldn't see James because she had the irrational fear that he would take him from her. When he came for Joan's funeral and held his son for the first time, she hardened her heart not to see the love and longing in his eyes. Then there was Nathan. She ran into his arms, not out of love at first, but to give her son a father and some semblance of a family life that she never had. Nathan knew she still loved Martin, yet he loved her enough to want to build a family with her and enough that on his deathbed, had asked her to make peace with Martin.

She shared more that night with her son than she had ever shared with anyone. She never trusted anyone with this secret, not even Nathan. Joan knew a lot, but they never talked about it. Tonight, with all its emotional upheavals, she felt she owed it to James.

When they got home, James hugged her. "I'm sorry you suffered for so long. I used to think that you and Dad had nothing in common, but you both were carrying so much baggage neither of you could see beyond that to make a go of your relationship."

"James, I want you to know that I grew to love Nathan. Please believe me."

Taking her by the arm, he led her upstairs. "I know you loved dad. You don't have to try to convince me, I grew up in this family. It's been a long day. Let's go to bed." Louisa slept well that night, the first in a long time.

Back at the Parsons's, Martin and Chris discussed the project to which Martin had agreed to lend his considerable skills. After years as head of the PCT, and the respect he had earned as a medical administrator, they had asked Chis to break his retirement temporarily to lead a well-funded research project for surgical residents in Cornwall. Martin had agreed to help him and would come down to Truro for bi-monthly lectures, practicals and reviews.

Then they drifted into the subject that was uppermost in their minds.

"It was good to see you and Louisa in the same room and getting along. I didn't know what to expect," Chris began tentatively, not wishing to pry into his friend's very private life.

"Neither did I. I didn't know she would have been here," Martin said.

Reaching for his glass of brandy, he looked over at Chris, "Do you think it has been too long?"

"Too long for what? You're not planning to marry her are you?

"Chris! What I mean is, would she ever be on cordial terms with me after all I have done her."

"You have done each other some silly things, so I don't see why not. And you have been on cordial terms with her all these years, the last time I checked."

Feeling a little bolder, Martin put it on the table. "And what if I wanted to marry her? I have never stopped loving her."

"Don't I know."

"Would she give me a chance again?"

"Only you can answer that Mart. You know her best. She hasn't changed all that much, you know."

Martin wanted to believe that but he wasn't sure.

"Look at you, your social skills have improved and in many ways you're not the tortured soul you once were. You don't rant as much as you used to from what people at Imperial tell me and you have been very calm all evening. But you will always be the reserved, introverted, goal-driven person I met at uni."

Martin's mind flashed back to the day he was standing in his kitchen with Joan, some twenty-two years ago, and she told him he could not change. He had been livid and smarting from Louisa's rejection and had angrily told her that if he wanted to change he could. And he had.

"We have lived so many lives, gone in so many directions away from each other. Would us coming together, if she agreed, even work?"

His incredible chance meeting with Louisa had affected him in ways he had never imagined it would. His natural reserve had not stopped his heart from leaping - Christ, he should know that the heart doesn't leap - nor his hands from wanting to reach out and touch her to reassure himself that this was not all a dream. He who had stopped life from slipping away from royalty, the high, the mighty and the humble felt hopelessness sweeping over him.

"This is such a mess."

"No, you haven't been away from each other. James always held you both together. As for making a go of it, that's up to you and Louisa. You're healthy, still very active and ALONE. I'm a man of science but as a husband and father, I have learned that in these matters, let your heart take you where it needs to go."

They sat lost in thought for a while. Chris broke the silence. "Mart, Louisa has never stopped loving you. The village, and even her late husband, knew that. I saw him the week before he died and he asked me to watch over her. She has had a hard time of it, but she's not one to sit around and feel sorry for herself. I hate to impose, I'm just asking if you would try to at least be there for her as she faces the future. If you do, I would consider my promise kept."

"Who's the man she has never stopped loving? We both have changed. I'm not the bumbling GP doing purgatory in Portwenn that she knew. Our worlds are so different."

"Your worlds may be different, but you and Louisa are essentially the same persons who fell in love with each other and, for reasons I will never understand, walked away from each other. As a man of science, why don't you do the research, analyze the findings and let that guide Project Louisa and Mart."

Martin grinned. "Damn Chris, when did you get so philosophical? Project Louisa and Mart. It's time to go. I need to figure out how I'm going to handle tomorrow with Louisa. "

"She has agreed to see you? You had the courage to ask?" This was another turn in the evening that Chris never saw coming.

Ignoring the last question, Martin mumbled to himself, "What are the odds that we would meet tonight? I owe her an explanation."

The two friends made to shake hands, then hugged each other.

Driving to the hotel, Martin couldn't help wondering if he was going where angels feared to thread. He consoled himself that fate had brought them together and he was willing to go wherever it took him.

Before retiring for bed, he texted instructions to Mrs. Green, his assistant, who had been with him since his return to Imperial. He hadn't seen her since his trip as he had left the airport and gone straight to see James at his flat and had only stopped at his home on the way to Cornwall to get fresh clothing. If only she knew that _Visit with Dr. Parsons_ which she had put in his calendar had turned out to be _Visit with Dr. Parsons & Mrs. Tiggle_.

He knew that Louisa was coming to London for the graduation as he and James had discussed the ins and out of her visit. She would stay with James. The only time they would meet would be at the graduation and the graduation lunch he was hosting for James. This was for the best since they had not seen each other in such a long time. They had spoken on the phone on and off, but nothing more as he did not want to intrude in any way in her marriage. After tonight, he decided to invite Chris and Jenny. If his meeting with her didn't go well, at least she would have friends there. Suddenly, things were different. Seeing her had opened up a wound that had never healed. He had managed to co-exist with it, but for how much longer? He wanted desperately to see if tonight's meet-up with Louisa could lead anywhere. He felt he owed it to himself to take that chance. She was a beautiful and desirable woman. Who wouldn't want to pursue her?

While performing his nightly ablutions, he gave himself a good look in the mirror. Even he saw the change in his facial expression. How could she ever have loved him? Yet she had and he had blown it. It had been a long day but he decided to meditate before going to bed. It would help to put the events of the evening in perspective.

Sleep didn't come quickly, so he searched his playlist, found Etta James's _At Last_, and fell asleep to:

_At last, My love has come along _

_My lonely days are over _

_And life is like a song._

* * *

Before turning off her bedside lamp, Jenny leaned over to her husband and asked, "Do you think Louisa and Martin can get back together?"

"I don't know."

"But they love each other."

"Jenny, love isn't always enough. Making a life together is challenging."

"Louisa and Nathan had a good marriage. They had their difficulties, which marriage hasn't?"

"Your memory is highly selective. After James left, issues which had been there for some time spilled out into the open. How he chose to deal with his illness didn't help. If you remember, as much as I was afraid to, I had to do an intervention. It's late. Those two are fully grown, let them work it out." And with that the Parsons drifted off to sleep, each wishing a good outcome for their dear friends.

To be continued ...


	6. Confessions

Morning came quickly. By 7 am I was awake and reaching for my phone. It was James.

"Good morning, Dad."

"Good morning, James. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. I wanted to apologize for all the ill-feelings I have held towards you. Not that I feel that way about you now," he hastened to correct himself. "Last night Mum told me how it really was between you and her. She admitted that she shared some of the blame for your leaving us. Sorry, Dad."

I winced. Guess we all had our confessions to make. I didn't press him for details and he didn't offer

"Is she alright?" I was worried about Louisa. She had been through a lot, life hadn't spared either of us. Still we were survivors, it could only get better now, I fervently hoped.

"She said she felt better having it out in the open. As expected, she cried buckets but I think she rested well."

We got off the call quickly. One of the myriad ways in which James took after me was his telephone habits. Neither of us were much for telephone chatter.

After I had showered, dressed and had breakfast in the hotel's restaurant, I returned to my room to wait until 10:30 for the drive to Portwenn. I didn't want to chance it and be late. I remembered many nights when I got back to the village late because some wandering cow or sheep had chosen to plop itself in the middle of the road, and only moved after gentle persuasion. Even the animals were barmy. Can't believe I survived village life given that city life is all I had ever known. It's not that London doesn't have its ills. Far from it. Well, no point in dwelling on the negatives of life. I will need all my reserves for later.

I couldn't help pinching myself to make sure this was happening. One whole evening with Louisa in Cornwall. It was unbelievable how my visit had set off a train of events that had turned my whole world upside down. I can't imagine that the old Martin would have handled it as I did last night. He would have clammed up and hidden behind a gruff exterior while crying inside. Or, the old Louisa for that matter. Surprisingly, she had not shown me any rancor. She had recovered well after her initial shock at seeing me, and her breakdown outside was understandable. Maybe we have finally grown up, tossed aside the fairy tale script and accepted that life happens. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, took a few deep breaths and was out the door. No turning back now. Whatever my destiny was, it awaited me.

Meanwhile, Louisa and James went to meet the Stewart family and Mr. Daniels.

"They look like our family, " he whispered as we walked through the door.

"Yes, they do. I had a hard time keeping you quiet when your dad and I came to look at the house. You were about Billy's age and just as curious."

"I have very good memories of our house. If you have to sell it, best be to a young family who will be able to enjoy it for a long time. Are you sure you still want to sell it?"

"I'm sure. What would I do, me alone in this big house? You don't want it, your life is now in London. Time to move on, James."

By mid-morning, it seemed that all of James's friends knew he was in the village and they organized a beach party to celebrate. He was free to go because, sensing that they had a lot of catching up to do, James had asked Martin to come for Louisa.

As Martin drove into the village shortly before noon, he realized that in this idyllic part of Cornwall, time had stood still. The school was still there, though empty of children as it was the Easter break. The surgery was still there. Looked like it was now a café or some tourist attraction. The sea was still a breathtaking blue, topped by swirling white foam. For a moment, he felt like the school boy coming to spend summer with Auntie Joan and Uncle Phil, eager to escape the tyranny of his London life for the warmth and love that Cornwall offered. People looked curiously at him as he drove James's blue BMW cautiously through unfamiliar yet faintly familiar narrow streets. One or two of the older ones waived, as if thinking that he looked familiar. "Wonder who's looking after their medical needs?" It was just a passing thought.

He parked a ways off from the beach and walked towards the music coming from a secluded spot. Picking his way gingerly, he saw Louisa from afar, or rather her red and cream dress topped by a beautiful cream cardigan and comfortable, stylish shoes.

Smiling shyly, she came towards him and invited him to meet some friends of James. "They know the two dads story. They want to meet you."

Reaching hesitantly for her hand, he said, "I would love that."

Introductions over, they walked back to the car. James followed, walking between them with his arms slung around their shoulder. "Have a good time, you two." Winking at Louisa, he said, "Please don't talk Dad to death."

Martin asked if she wanted to listen to music, talk or silence. She choose music. The car had been his gift to James when he turned 21 and he wasn't very familiar with all its bells and whistles For the next hour, they drove to the sound of classical music which Martin after had fiddled around and found. Their heads were still spinning from the events of the previous night, more so Louisa's. Finally, she dozed off to the sound of Bach's_ Aria Lento_ and only woke with a start when Martin gently touched her arm.

"Louisa, we're here. I'll park at my hotel. The restaurant is a short walk, just around the corner."

She looked up and realized they were in the parking lot of the Thistle Hotel, one of Cornwall's finest, and around the corner from the five-star restaurant known to locals as the Tea Room. Still nothing but the best for Martin, she smiled to herself. He helped her out of the car, guided her through the parking lot until they hit the street.

The maître d' greeted them as Mr. and Mrs. Ellingham and ushered them to a secluded corner of the restaurant, partly shielded by large leafy plants. Neither bothered to correct him. All eyes seemed to follow them as they walked to their table. An older couple, she incredibly beautiful and smiling and the gentleman, tall and handsome. He had his hand protectively on her back, waited while she took her seat, then sat down across from her.

"We will let you know when we're ready," he said to the server who had joined them. Turning his attention to Louisa, he asked, "What did you have for breakfast?"

"Not much, I wasn't very hungry. The Parsons fed me well last night."

"Then let's begin with soup. Try the vegetable broth, it's not too heavy, shouldn't affect your appetite."

She made a face.

"Best to go easy. I don't recall your eating much last night."

"The Parsons fed me well as I told you." Then with a slight laugh. "Are you calling me a liar Mr. Ellingham?"

"Certainly not. I just don't want you fainting on me a third time. What would James think?"

Delighted that he was playing along with her, Louisa relaxed. And so it went, Martin making suggestions, she agreeing as he seemed to remember what she liked from the few times they had been out together or had shared at meal at each others home. With their order placed, Louisa sat nursing her wine and Martin his mineral water.

"I thought we could go for a walk after we have eaten."

She agreed, though still puzzled at what he wanted to talk to her about. She had tried to keep him in James's life with photographs of important events such as birthdays and Christmas, as well as newspaper reports about his academic and athletic achievements. She had even sent him the one about his interview with her friend Caroline when he was voted Cornwall's best all-rounder schoolboy cricketer. James hated that interview. He had called Caroline, Auntie. She wanted him to call her Caroline because he was no longer a little boy and she had told him this with all of Portwenn listening. His friends had teased him mercilessly for weeks. She wanted James to know the Ellingham side of his family and after Joan's death, she had forged at relationship with Ruth, Joan's sister. Nathan's parents had died before she met him and he was an only child. Her father had died while a guest of Her Majesty and had only seen pictures of his grandson. Her mother had left early, and was never heard from again.

The meal was delicious. They ate silently and leisurely, soothed by the faint tinkle from the piano across the room and each others company, neither wishing to break the mood. Louisa noticed that Martin was dressed appropriately in brown casual trousers, a blue jumper, navy cardigan and a pair of brown walking shoes. Casual wear two days in a row!

It was an unusually balmy day for Cornwall, a good day to be outside. They took to the cliff path, walking the first 15 or so minutes in silence, only broken when Martin said, "Let's sit on the bench coming up, I want to talk, if you don't mind."

When seated, he took her hands and gave them a light squeeze. "Louisa, uhm … this may take long, but I never thought our paths would ever cross again. Uhm … Let me say first that I will forever regret the day I drove out of Portwenn. I was an emotional coward, scared I would ruin your life as well as our baby's, so in true Ellingham style, I ran away. "

"Stop." She dragged her hand out of his, frightened at what she was going to hear. After last night, she didn't think she could handle another confession. "That's all in the past. I wasn't so innocent myself. I robbed you of James, the chance to learn how to be a father. I knew enough about you to know that it wouldn't have been easy for you."

Reaching for her hand, he said, "No, let me continue." His words spilled out slowly and deliberately, with Louisa alternately cringing and tearing up. The only sign of Martin's emotional state was the tightening or loosening of his grip.

Imperial had welcomed him with open arms, but had insisted that he undergo treatment until the psychiatrist could confirm that his haemophobia was cured. For those 18 months of therapy, the hospital allowed him to perform surgery on a limited basis, even though he was head of the Vascular Department. Psychiatry was hell, but it helped him to understand the cause of his illness and to lower the barricade he had erected around himself. During his first few years at Imperial, he met a fellow doctor, who he began dating.

Feeling Louisa's hand stiffening, he stopped, gently pressed her palm until her felt her relax.

That didn't last long. One night Louisa had called to say James was running a fever that wouldn't come down. On his instruction, she had taken James to the hospital where they had kept him for observation. Chris came to the hospital to sit with her. Martin had sat with his phone that night, waiting to hear from Chris or Louisa. Dr. Margaret Kent, the doctor, had called. Fearing he would miss their call, he hurried her off the phone explaining what was happening. She was livid. This was the first time she was hearing about James and Louisa and hung up on him. The next morning she called, accused him of keeping secrets from her and asked him not to contact her again. Fine with him. He was glad to be rid of the distraction of maintaining a tumultuous relationship. Of course, being doctors they would run into each other occasionally at conferences.

He pressed on, steadily regaining his reputation as a miracle worker, and attracting patients from all over the world. Still, it wasn't enough to soothe his soul. One day, no longer content to be the grumpy, lonely old surgeon that everybody respected but feared to get close to, he realized that the void in his life was going to kill him. He spoke with Joan who told him cheerfully that Louisa was engaged to be married the following week and James would finally have a real father. Joan, being an Ellingham, didn't mince words.

"Aren't you just being like your father? You never lacked for money, what you never had was his love, a real father and son relationship. I love you like a son, Marty, but you cannot have your cake and eat it. Parenting is messy but it's the only way to be a good parent."

This hit him hard. From then on, with Louisa married and James with a real father, he gave his life to surgery. The body has an inelegant way of demanding what it wants. One day, with major surgery scheduled hours away, he realized that he did not want to do it. It wasn't the blood thing. That was no longer an issue. He just couldn't. He arranged for his assistant to take over, took two weeks off ostensibly to attend to a family matter. Everybody thought it was about his aunt in Cornwall. He had left hurriedly before to be with her after her first ischemic episode and they knew that she was up in age. No, he searched the Internet, found and researched an ashram in India and spent almost six weeks there unlearning all he thought he knew about his life, his work, his relationships and his very existence.

He felt Louisa shivering and apologized. "Sorry. You're cold. Here, please take my cardigan." "No, no. It's nothing. The wind coming off the sea gets to you if you sit for too long. Let's walk, that will warm me up. " She was beginning to feel a little chill, but it was hearing what life had been like for Martin that made her shiver. If only she had known. She wanted to hear more.

To be continued ...


	7. Feel my love

As soon as they settled into a comfortable pace, with Martin consciously shortening his stride so that Louisa could keep up, he continued telling Louisa what his life had been like since he left Portwenn.

"I had no time for the distraction of women until an old medical school friend visiting London asked me to show her around. I was glad to do so. She knew of my haemophobia and my exile in Cornwall. We had kept in touch over the years. She reminds me of a lot of you – warm, bubbly, thoughtful, so full of life."

Seeing Louisa grimace, he added, "She's happily married now, and has remained my friend and confidante. Her name is Victoria. Years after when she moved to London to take up a job, we began meditating together. This led to museum visits, dinners, walks, you name it. One day she invited me home for dinner. I didn't realize we were getting close until I felt myself looking forward to being with her."

He felt Louisa's hand tighten. He stopped, gently caressed it until she relaxed.

"She wanted to say thanks for my generosity, she said. But her real reason was to tell me some truths in private. After dinner, as we sat on her balcony looking across at the lights of London spread out before us, she took my hand and in her warm, kind voice said, 'Martin, you don't love me. To pretend you do is not being true to all the pain you have gone through to overcome the effects your childhood has had on your life. Continue to seek what you need and allow it to come to you. Live in the present and accept what it brings.'

"Anticipating my resistance, she had written a Zen proverb on a slip of paper and left it with me. It read: _The obstacle is the path_.

"I was crushed. I understood what she meant, but I still thought there was mumbo jumbo in there somewhere. Shortly after, you wrote to say that James was in his last year of high school and asked if you could send him to London in my care and for me to help him to get into Imperial's medical programme. I knew then that I was on the path.

"I understood why James was angry, how difficult it was to ask for help from a virtual stranger. To him, I was the dad missing in action who salved his guilt with generous cheques. I expected the obstacles and vowed to stay on the path. I wanted to open my heart and learn to be a real parent to James. "

There was silence for a while. Neither wanted to break it, until Louisa said, "It's getting late, we'll have to go back soon."

"Let's go back to my hotel and regroup," Martin suggested. As they walked back, he shared what the first two years with James were like.

"Many times I felt like giving up, but I thought of all the nights you had been up with him as a baby, the illnesses, homework, managing your job and family responsibilities, your own pain of rejection by your parents and then me, living on your own with him, the ridicule the villagers must have subjected you to after I left, and I trudged on. I was very grateful to Nathan for looking after you and James, I never wanted you and James to be unhappy.

"James had his frustrations. At first, he had stayed with me until he got a student flat and found a roommate. The distance helped. Sometimes we would study until so late that he stayed over. He was a good student, I was proud of him. After a while he understood why I worked as hard as I did. Yet, deep down he was angry that I had not always been a part of his life. Worse, he felt that I had used and dumped you just like any other sod. He couldn't reconcile that with the great Martin Ellingham people went on about.

"You were the glue that held us together. Neither of us wanted to fail and disappoint you. One night after a particularly grueling study marathon, he stayed over in the bedroom which I had kept as his. When he got up, I was on my mat meditating. I invited him to sit quietly and not disturb me. I don't know for how long he sat there, until he came closer and joined me. Whether it was the chants, the release that comes with relaxed breathing or the energy of the moment, he reached for my hand and said, 'I forgive you. I don't want the burden of holding the disappointments of my life against you.'

"This took me by surprise. His forgiveness was something I had neither sought nor expected.

"Thank you, James, was all I could say. We sat for a long time reflecting on what had happened, until it was time for him to leave. That's when our relationship took a turn for the better. The obstacles had shown us a path we could take. Without us even being aware of it, we began to build a father and son relationship."

By then, they were almost at the hotel. As we crossed into the car park. Martin took my hand, "Come up with me," he pressed. Wordlessly, I followed him

As we passed the Front Desk, the clerk held out an envelope. "A message for you Mr. Ellingham."

When we got to his door, I hesitated, then timidly walked inside. We sat down on the sectional sofa in the lounge of what appeared to be a suite as he carefully opened the envelope: _"Mum, won't be coming home tonight. Going to help Adam fix his car. He's prepping for a race next week. If Dad can't take you home, please stay over with Uncle Chris. Sorry for the short notice." _Adam and James had been friends since primary school. He worked part-time as an ace engineer and as a skilled racing driver in Truro. I was glad they had remained friends.

I looked around. There were fresh yellow roses on the small dining table, next to a door that led to a kitchenette and a rolled up blanket on the floor next to the window that overlooked the cliffs. Pretty standard, but the furnishing were posh, especially the rug on the wooden floor. The clock on the wall read 4:30 pm.

"Would you like some water, espresso, tea, wine?"

"No, not espresso or wine. They will push me over the edge. It has been an afternoon. Water is fine."

Martin filled glasses with mineral water for us and sat down beside me. "Last night you said you wanted to talk. Now would be a good time. After dinner, I'll take you home. Would you like to freshen up? The bathroom is through the bedroom."

Nervously, I nodded and went in that direction.

The bedroom held a ginormous four-poster bed, covered with a rich wine coloured duvet piled with pillows. His clothes must have been neatly put away because none were in sight. His bathroom was pristine with just one or two toiletries out. When I was through, I returned to the lounge to find Martin waiting on me, eyes closed, head back, his hands outstretched along the top of the sofa.

I walked into his arms, sort of, sat down, took a sip of water and shivered again. "Are you cold? I'll get you a blanket," Martin offered.

"No," I answered, as I tried to compose myself for what was to come.

"Wait just a minute." He disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a lovely, rich navy coloured blanket.

"Keep it beside you. If you feel chilly, you can use it."

"Thanks," I said meekly. With what I planned to say, it might come in handy.

"Louisa, we don't have to do this now. When I start on the Project I'll be coming to Truro twice a month. If you like, we could see each other then." This was the first I was hearing about the Project so Martin brought me up to speed.

"It's my turn now," I said determinedly. When I told him about my talk with James last night, he visibly winced. Grabbing his free hand, I shared some of that conversation and other things buried deep.

"When you left, it took me a long time to get over you. I tried to be strong for James. I loved him even more because he reminded me of the happy times we had shared. I thought that If you saw him, how he looked like you, you would love him instantly. Many times I planned a trip to London, then abandoned it at the last moment. I was scared you would not want to see us. Many times my heart ached just seeing him playing with other children and wishing he had someone to do male things with. Al helped when he could and Bert was happy to have James tagging along. Chris and Jenny had him for weekends as often as they could, but it was not enough."

Martin groaned. "Louisa, please …."

I ignored him because if I stopped, I might never have the courage to do this again.

"One day when he was about four, he asked, 'Why don't I have a daddy? All my friends have daddies.' I didn't know how to answer him."

Martin's hands tightened on mine as I choked at the memory. He wrapped me in the blanket and held me until I calmed down. I took another sip of water, then deep breaths. Remembering it was painful, hearing myself recounting it was hell.

"That's when I decided to put away any thought of your coming back into our life. You were at the top of your profession again and I didn't want to interfere with that.

"At first it was hard opening up to any man, nobody could measure up to you, the real you. I promised myself that I would not allow James to experience the lonely childhood I had. I thought about your childhood, and felt it was up to me to break the cycle. I met Nathan when James was five going on six. He was discovering the outside world and Nathan was just the person for him at that age. They liked each other immediately. He was there for everything. I never loved him for me at first, I loved him for James. Nathan was a good, decent man. He accepted me as I was, still yearning after you, and he was all we could have asked for."

She stopped again. Martin caressed her hand and put his arm around her shoulder until she composed herself.

"Over time, the village had changed, but I always felt it was home. There were many still there who had been kind to me, especially Joan. I couldn't leave her. She was the mother I never had and I couldn't take James away from her."

She poured her heart out, every ache, every hurt, every crisis for herself and James, the people who helped and those who taunted her, only stopping when she could talk no more. Exhausted, she fell asleep in his arms.

When she opened her eyes, she was in Martin's bed, her shoes off and covered with the blanket. She got up, rubbed her eyes, unsure of where she was until she remembered. She washed her face then went in search of Martin. He was stretched out on the sofa, clutching a worn slip of paper with the faded words, _The obstacle is the path_. Gently she took it from him and sat down beside him with her feet stretched out. A line from Adele's _Make you feel my love _crossed her mind _"... I could hold you for a million years_." as she saw how vulnerable and peaceful he looked asleep. She listened to him breathing, watched the half-smile hovering on his lips, until he realized where he was. He looked at her and asked, "Do you feel better now?"

"Yes," she responded shyly. For the first time since they had known each other, all these many years, there was nothing to hide. Everything was out in the open.

"It's time to eat. How about we order room service and I drive you home after?"

"That would be fine."

They ate in silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Neither wanted to talk, busy as they were with their own thoughts about the incredible confessions they had made to each other and how it had helped to close the gap time and distance had created.

They drove home in silence, no music, just their breath. Martin had to concentrate on the narrow roads but he would check in with her every now and again to ask, "Are you comfortable?"

When they arrived at her home, Martin took the key from her shaking hand and opened the door. He came in, checked that the windows were locked, gave her a hug and walked through the door. "See you in London at the graduation."

Over the next two months, we spoke on the phone almost every week at first and then most days, usually last thing at night before I fell asleep. I had initiated the first call, then Martin began calling to find how I was doing. I did most of the talking as Martin still wasn't much of a talker. We never talked about us, mostly about James and how our day had been.

My house sale had gone through. I got a good price and this gave me more money in my hands than I had ever had. I was in no hurry to do anything. But even my landlord wanted to know what my plans were. I didn't have any. I had worn out myself worrying. The graduation would be a reprieve from my anxiety, I hoped.


	8. Graduation

When I stepped into the august portals of Imperial College on a brisk Friday morning in June, the first person my eyes caught was a tall, grey haired older man, towering head and shoulders above everybody, in animated conversation. He was in full academic dress - gown, cape and tam - with a pair of dark grey trousers and gleaming black dress shoes peeping out from under his gown. I walked up, tapped him on his shoulder and without missing a beat, he turned around swiftly, swept me up in his arms with a great bear hug. "Louisa, so good to see you," he greeted me in a low voice.

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Louisa, James's mother." All eyes were on me as Martin's colleagues greeted me. One in particular, a surgeon and friend from university days, Zee, exclaimed, "Martin, where have you been hiding Louisa? How come we have never met her?"

There was a pause, then Martin shot back, "Because I didn't want you getting excited as you're now. Not good for your heart." We all laughed. I was more in shock. Martin actually knew how to crack a joke.

My gasp came out as a whisper at the sight of Louisa. She was glowing. Her hair was swept back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Her pale blue, silk two-piece suit with tiny pearl buttons running down the front of the unstructured jacket showed off her slim figure to perfection and her royal blue clutch and matching satin heels gave her outfit an edge that I liked. The mother of the graduate, I thought. I knew from the appreciative glances my colleagues were giving her that they were as enchanted as I was with this beautiful woman. The fairest in the room, and for this evening at least, all mine.

A strikingly tall, slim, beautiful woman who introduced herself as Viola took my hand with a smile. "So you're the Louisa who has the key to Martin's heart. We're all delighted to meet you. I'm Viola. "

"That's very kind of you, " I responded, wondering if and what Martin had said to his friends about me.

"No, no. It's you who has been kind. Martin has mellowed out in recent months in ways we cannot believe. The junior staff no longer quakes when he's around."

"Oh, come on Miss Grant," Martin interrupted in mock anger, "They are your charges. I have little to do with them."

He turned to me. "We have worked together for years. Viola has been known to save me from myself more often than I care to remember."

I listened in amazement and observed a side of Martin that I didn't know. He certainly had changed.

From inside the auditorium, I could hear the faint swell of an organ. I took Louisa's hand and said, "Chris and Jenny are here, let's take our seats." As Faculty, professor emeritus really, and father of a graduate, I had been given special seats for my guests.

"Oh my god Louisa, you're radiant," Jenny exclaimed. Chris gave her a hug and winked at me.

Minutes after, Victoria, her flying red hair accentuated by a yellow suit, arrived. I gave her a peck on the check, and introduced her to Louisa as a dear friend. I watched Louisa's face break into a warm smile as she extended her hand, changed her mind, then pulled Victoria in for a hug. I was so glad that they had hit it off from the go. I owed so much of the person I am today to Victoria.

Louisa sat beside me. James spotted us and smiled. When he walked up to accept his degree, there couldn't have been prouder parents than us. When he came up for an impressive number of sectional awards, Louisa gripped my hand as tears filled her eyes. I turned to Victoria who sat on my other side and whispered, "The obstacles are clearing."

She squeezed my hand, "The path is becoming clearer."

Our graduation lunch, more than lunch really because we began eating at about 2 pm, was a simple, elegant affair. Martin had pulled out all the stops to make it memorable. When our party of seven arrived at the restaurant, we were whisked into an exquisitely decorated private room. The table gleamed with fine china, crystal, silverware and crisp white linen.

I had never seen Martin in such a setting. Now that he was out of his academic dress, I could see the fine tailoring of his grey suit, crisp white shirt, red tie and silver cuff links. He cut a fine figure. I had been even more bowled over when we were at Imperial. So many colleagues stopped to congratulate him on his son's graduation. Each time, he pulled me forward with a shy smile, introduced me as his son's mother, and said all the credit belonged to me. He was so comfortable in that distinguished setting. Now I understood how hard and painful it must have been for him to fit into village life.

By the time we had ordered drinks, Martin had loosened his tie and was joking across the table with everybody. I caught my son's eyes and smiled. He mouthed, "Love you." All I could do back was to let out a giggle, although I was still nursing my first glass of wine. I was so happy for James.

Martin turned to me, "The evening is still young, mother of the graduate. Don't tell me the wine is getting the better of you already." Everybody burst out laughing at us playing.

Chris and Martin traded jokes, including the first time he had met Jenny. Jenny interjected, for my benefit since I was the only one who hadn't been to Imperial, "Louisa, don't believe half of what they tell you. Chris pursued me relentlessly, not the other way around."

After we had waded through the delicious meal of chicken baked in mango sauce, vegetable stuffed fish, saffron rice, steamed broccoli and a green salad - and listened to all the stories - I was in high spirits in more ways than one.

Martin and I walked with James to the foyer when he got up to leave with Rosie for a party with their friends. While she was in the loo, he handed James an envelope. I knew it was the miniature copy of the deed to his flat, with his name on it. "My love and best wishes for a happy life, James." Martin had secretly bought the flat, given it over to a letting agency, steered James towards the agency and arranged for it to be rented to him below market under the guise of the agency returning a favour for the goodly Mr. Ellingham. James put the envelope in his pocket without opening it, hugged us and left. I would give him the photo album I had made for him from he was a baby. It even had a photo Al had taken secretly of James and Martin at Joan's funeral. I had become a sort of camera buff and Jenny had once suggested that I publish a coffee table book. I thought she had lost her mind.

Still playing, Martin asked, "Mother of the graduate, will you join us for coffee, tea, drinks, whatever at my home?"

"Whatever you say, father of the graduate." I was curious to see Martin's home and wondered if it would be just as surprising as he had been today.

Victoria left to join her husband at another function, so it was just myself, Chris and Jenny who got into Martin's car for the thirty or so minutes ride to Parkside, a small community a little outside of the city. What a difference the distance made. I had never seen this side of London, an oasis of calm and greenery. His street was lined with trees and generously sized Victorian townhouses. His was a semi-detached at the bottom of a cul-de-sac.

Set far in from the street, we entered the house through a garden in late spring bloom, then stepped into a high-ceiling foyer with burnt orange walls, from which hung three long oriental tapestries embroidered with gold, purple and green threads. This was not the white, sterile home of the Martin I thought I knew.

Inside was even more dazzling in a quiet way. The first floor, an open plan design, had ceilings at least 12 feet high. The plastered walls were a calming bluey grey. The living room was huge, with tasteful, comfortable modern furnishing. Nothing brash, just exquisitely handcrafted furniture with a couple of antique pieces, including a grandfather clock. Next to it was a dining area, the centerpiece of which was a round glass-topped dining table. The dining area was separated from the kitchen by a breakfast bar. I knew Martin was a good cook so I was not surprised that the kitchen was a generous size, decked out in modern stainless steel appliances. Tucked In the back of the first floor was a powder room, and right off the living room, a small study.

"Mart, what a change!" Chris blurted out, echoing what we all were thinking. "I saw this house when you just bought it. It didn't look anything like this."

"It's almost 100 years old. I did a full renovation some years ago and made a few changes in recent years. Having James in London made me rethink how I lived. After years of toil, I finally wanted my home to be more than a changing room. It's now my place of rest and repose." With that he flicked on two switches. One bathed the entire downstairs with soft mood lighting, the other turned on soft relaxation music piped from all over to give a surround sound effect.

Jenny let out a gasp. "This operates as efficiently as an operating theatre."

Martin smiled.

There were three bedrooms upstairs, including a master with an en suite bathroom. It held a king-size bed covered with a creamy damask duvet, lots of pillows, and was flanked by bedside lamps whose bases were etched in oriental-looking tapestry. The en suite held a whirlpool bath, a shower, and the usual. The other two bedrooms were guest-ready, with the one reserved for James when he visited decorated in the navy and green colours he had liked from he was a child.

Jenny looked at Martin and innocently observed, "There's an extra bedroom. Louisa could stay here when she visits and give James his privacy."

"She's welcome anytime she wants," Martin answered.

Chris smiled at me because he could see that I was blushing. Following on with Jenny's obvious ploy, Chris asked, "Now that James has graduated, are you planning to spend more time in London?"

"Maybe, if whomever will have me whenever."

Jenny laughed. "Touché."

I looked at Martin. He took my hand and led us up the stairs to the third level. Luckily, the stairs was broken up by two landings as I was beginning to feel tired. The space was voluminous. At one end, there were book-lined walls and a huge mahogany table. "This is where James and I used to do our study marathons," Martin explained.

A shoji screen enclosed the other end of the room. That space was bare, save for cushions and blankets piled in one corner and an open antique Japanese tansu cabinet. The cabinet held two photographs: one of James and Martin and the other of Martin and Joan. There were a few Asian artifacts, some of which I recognized from his time in the village. Seeing our bemused faces, Martin said, "My meditation space."

In between these two space, there was a sparsely furnished sitting area. He told us that the renovation architect had made allowances for an elevator to run from the first floor up to this level, should the need arise. The first floor could also be easily redesigned to accommodate a bedroom.

Jenny asked about storage. Martin pressed an indentation in the wall, and it slid open to reveal a generous storage area. There wasn't much in there but blankets, extra linen and a few odds and ends. Martin was never one for excess.

As a close friend, Jenny's curiosity knew no bounds. "How do you do it? Your home is spotless.?

"Mrs. White comes in once a week to clean. She's been doing so for over 15 years and the beauty of our arrangement is that I hardly ever see her."

Tour over, we settled down for a nice catch-up. I didn't say much, but still enjoyed the conversation. Chris, Jenny and Martin shared so much history and it had been such a long time that they had met like this, that they chatted away the evening. Martin was a gracious host. I wished the evening would never end.


	9. First time

It had been a long day with my leaving the village early to drive up with the Parsons, so when their son came to pick them up at 6:30 pm, I was already dozing off. Martin told Greg that he would let me rest some more, then take me back to James's which wasn't far away. When he got back inside, he invited me to join him in the leather recliner that seemed to be his favourite chair. We relaxed in companionable silence until I felt myself dozing off next thing I knew, Martin was pulling the duvet over me, and I was snuggled up in his bed.

As Louisa dozed in my arms, I thought that there was no point in taking her to James. I figured that if James brought Rosie back to his home, they wouldn't want to tiptoe around on what was a very special night for them, so I would keep her here with me. As I caressed her arms, shoulders, back, wherever my hands could reach, she burrowed into me some more and I knew she was out of it. She hadn't had more than two glasses of wine, but in her high emotional state, the effect would have been immediate. Plus, she had only picked at lunch. I held her for some time, savouring the pleasurable sensations sweeping over me then I took her upstairs.

My longing for her overcame me when I reached the landing. I turned towards my bedroom and placed her gently on my bed. I didn't think it proper to undress her, so I only removed her shoes, took off her jacket under which she had a matching thin silk camisole, her skirt had an elastic band so no concern there, and tucked her in gently so as not to awaken her. She stirred a little when I asked if I could join her, but I knew she was really asleep. I did my nightly ablutions, got into bed, pulled her against me and cuddled for a long time, listening to her soft breathing.

I had never dared to dream that I would ever have held her in my arms again, let alone her being in my bed, with me. She hadn't shied away from my touch, but I didn't want to be too forward lest I push her away. Today had been a special day for us as parents. I was content to let it stay at that.

I thought back to the night when I had caught her in my arms when she fell forward against me in shock at Chris and Jenny's home. The memory of our subsequent "confessions" still made me cringe. In our conversations since, it seemed as if were becoming friends. I had changed a lot, she not much, save for a sadness that would sweep over her at times. I understood her a lot better now. No more talking at cross-purposes as we used to do in the village. Her favourite line when she called was, "I'm sorry, I seem to have the wrong number, wrong person." Like our son, she brought out the best in me. I laughed more and held my own in our conversations.

Even the people at Imperial noticed the change. Mrs. Green had jokingly asked, "Are you on drugs, taking happiness pills in your old age, Mr. Ellingham?" after I had gotten off the phone with Louisa. "I know you and James have settled in nicely and he has done you a world of good. But this is different. Hope that Doctor Trouble Kent hasn't got her fangs into you again. You were well rid of her."

I gave her my best withering glare. She never blanched, looked at me quizzically and offered up a tidbit. "She has called many times and I have told her that you're extremely busy and travelling a lot."

Louisa stirred once during the night, calling out "Martin." I rubbed her back until she settled down, cuddled up against me and was soon asleep again.

* * *

My eyes opened slowly, trying to focus. Bloody hell, I was in Martin's bed with his arms loosely lying across my waist. I wiggled a little, then realized I still had on my clothes. I relaxed, nothing had happened. I lay there enjoying the comfort of his arms and looking out at the dark skies from under which morning was peeping out. I choked up, it felt so safe cuddled up to him, and that's when he stirred.

"Good morning, mother of the graduate, everything alright?" he asked, pulling me closer.

"Now, I am, thank you." I didn't have many wake-up memories of Martin. The most memorable was the morning after he had proposed. He was getting dressed and I had panicked thinking that he was sneaking out on me. He wasn't. This Martin didn't seem in a hurry to get out of bed. I now sensed a need in him that I wasn't sure how to handle.

He slid his hand under my blouse and over my breasts and began caressing them. With increasing urgency, he tugged carefully at my blouse. I leaned forward, allowing him to pull it over my head and lifted my hip as he pulled down my skirt.

"May I?" He turned me around gently by my shoulder so that our eyes met.

"Yes, Martin, " I whispered, lifting my hip again as he slowly rolled my nylons down and slid my knickers off. I was glad I had put on my best for the graduation, it was a day for finery. Not in a million years would I have guessed that anybody but me would have seen them. Well, he had seen me in all my glory many times before, but that was a long time ago. I wondered what he was thinking as his eyes swept over my trembling body. What medical observations was he making - flab, cellulite, wrinkles? With deft, but shaking fingers, he reached behind me and unhooked my bra.

"Louisa ..." His eyes were moist even in the faint light.

I felt like the teenager I was not. I threw my arms around him as he began caressing my bare breasts with his lips and fingers. I moaned, it felt so good, better than I remembered. With the little resolve I had left, I begged him, through the haze of desire that was sweeping over me, "Please don't let us spoil the weekend with something we might regret."

"There would be no regrets from me. But, if this is what you want, I can stop now."

"No, no, it's not that. It's been so long, maybe we're living too much in the past, too much in what could have been."

He lifted his head and looked at me. "We're very much in the present. Tell me to stop and I will." I said nothing. Then he slid down, covered my belly with kisses, whispering, "I worship your womb in which you nurtured our beautiful son." I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven.

I tried to think rationally. I was too old to give in to my emotions, and certainly not these. What if this was all our relationship was to be, a roll in the hay? Was I being unfair to Nathan's memory? Was it too soon after his death? James ... what would he think? What would my friends think? Who was I fooling, hadn't I allowed him to undress me?

In the end, my body betrayed me and years of longing won. After what seemed like hours of delicious touching, he slid out of his pajama bottom, drew me closer and we lost ourselves in long-forgotten and newly awakened passions.

After, as we lay side by side, satiated, looking at each other in wonder, I mumbled, "I don't know if this was a good idea.".

"No regrets. Please," he pleaded. "I thank you for giving yourself to me, it's more than I deserve."

I looked at him, still dazed from what had just transpired between us. I remembered our first time together. Looking in his eyes, I could see that he too was remembering that night. Tonight was our first time together in our new life as reunited parents. I wasn't sure if we could call ourselves lovers.

"Well, hush then. It's Saturday. Let's stay in bed a little longer." Running my hand through his hair, I added with a grin, "I need my beauty sleep. You have worn me out."

"The pleasure was all mine," he retorted. With that, I drifted back to sleep.

Sleep took a little time for Martin as he tried to process what had happened. Not even years of discipline could have prevented his body from responding to the sweet scent of Louisa's hair, the way she fitted into him, the feel of her skin beneath his hands and how vulnerable she looked asleep. When she protested and gave in, he knew that he would do whatever it took to woo her back. "I love you, Louisa," he whispered in her hair before drawing her closer, then falling into a deep asleep.

From out of the fog, I took my phone from Martin. He had retrieved it from my purse lying on the bedside table next to me. It was James.

"Mum, is everything alright? Are you at Dad's?" "Yes and yes."

"Why didn't you stay here or call me?"

"I fell asleep," I mumbled.

"Are you sure everything is alright, are you comfortable?"

Martin took phone from me. "James, your mum is fine. Why wouldn't she be?"

"DAD, are you two in bed together? Oh my God." I could hear the terror in our son's voice.

"Why don't you get some sleep and come over for lunch at about 12:30. See you then." With that Martin ended the call.

The next call was for him. Chris. "Are you awake?"

"What do you think?"

Chris stuttered. "I mean awake as in not occupied. I know Louisa didn't go over to James, he called. I suspect she's still with you." Martin told him the same thing he had told James, get some sleep and come over for lunch at about 12:30.

After our lie in, Martin gave me his robe on the chair next to his side of the bed which I pulled on, then ran to take a shower. I had forgotten my clothes and came back into the room to find Martin had retrieved them from the floor, where he had tossed them, and was waiting for me with them in his hand.

"You should ask James to bring your carry-on, you'll need a change of clothing."

"I know," I laughed. "These would have been perfectly good if a certain person hadn't decided that he preferred me in my birthday suit."

He pulled me down on the bed, "For some things, less is best."

As I showered, I thought about what lunch would be like and suspected that there would be fireworks. James was so like Martin that his would be the direct approach. Toiletries had been laid out for my use and as I meant to do, I texted James to bring my carry-on with him. Martin showered after me and we went downstairs arm in arm.

Breakfast was a light affair - espresso, buttered toast and fruits. By 9:30 am, we had eaten, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and had found enough to feed our lunch guests. Working together in the kitchen, we made short work of the prep.

I discovered a lovely courtyard in the back that had a table for six and which was partly enclosed by trellises of climbing roses. Beech trees lining the perimeter of the property provided shade. I noticed that to one corner, there was a Japanese soaking tub that Martin said he used for at least six months of the year. I was curious. I had read about it but had never actually seen one. He explained that its Japanese name was furo or ofuro. His was deep to fit his size, sunk almost fully in the ground and could seat four comfortably. "You sit in it for a warm soak that raises the body temperature to relax the muscles. Think of it as a spiritual deep clean. You use it after you have showered first." I noticed that it had a privacy screen, a translucent-like enclosure recessed into two columns set back from the tub. He promised that we would have a soak in it one day.

"Once you experience it as I did in Tokyo, you're hooked." This was something else to look forward to, a warm soak with Martin.

Privately, Martin thought that it might be time to bring the tub inside. The architect had assigned a space for it, but then he enjoyed using it outside. With Louisa in his life, maybe, hopefully … things were different.

While we were waiting on our guests, I thought about what had happened between us earlier. How many times had I fantasized about Martin riding into the village, my knight in shining armour, scooping up me and James and taking us to a place where we were safe from gossip. We would live happily ever after, have one or two more children and lots of grandchildren. I must have sighed because Martin asked, "What are you worrying about now?"

"I'm not worrying, just thinking back to a fairy tale that never happened. Here we are, at our age, trying to catch up."

He put his arms around my waist. "Louisa, there's no catching up. That door has been closedfor a long time. Let's walk through the door that's opening up for us." Then he teased, "I could think of something better we could do now instead of your worrying about the past." With that, he pulled me towards him for a long kiss. Soon our hands began wandering over now familiar territory.

We jumped like guilty teenagers when the doorbell rang. It was James, followed by Chris and Jenny. Retrieving my bag, I went upstairs to change in Martin's bedroom.

Jenny followed me. "So, how was it?" I couldn't pretend with her.

"It just happened, wasn't planned. I was so emotionally spent, I didn't have the strength to think things through, but it was great. I have never felt so comforted in a long time."

"Not the comfort silly, the juicy part. And you're blushing."

I was, or more correctly, the teenager in me was. "Surprisingly, it was good, especially for our age. Martin has always been a brilliant anatomy student and a considerate lover. I think his interest in Eastern culture must have helped." I didn't elaborate.

"I always knew Martin was deeply sensitive. You and James have managed to uncover his soft spot."

Soft spot? Hell, more like his super functional hard spot, I thought with a grin. Jenny zeroed in on my expression. "I'm not being nosey. But I did think he would have been a little rusty after being buried in his work for so long."

"You never forget some things."

She hugged me with tear-filled eyes. "I'm so happy for you. You deserve each other."


	10. James

**10 - James **

Driving over to Martin, James let his mind wander to places it had not been in ages.

It had taken him sometime to accept Martin as his father. Biological, yes, but not his real father like Nathan, the only father he had ever known from as far back as he could remember.

He began to realize that he did not have a dad like his other friends did one day when he was sitting outside the gate of the primary school waiting for his Granma to pick him up and take him to her home. He would stay there until his mummy came for him. Some parents were standing nearby and he heard one say, "The poor little mite. The spitting image of his father. To think he could run away and leave Louisa to bring him up alone." He didn't know quite what that meant but he knew it wasn't something nice judging by how they stopped talking when they realized he had overheard them.

He loved his Granma. She doted on him and always dropped everything she was doing to give him her full attention. When he asked her what the parents he had heard talking meant, she hugged him and said in the soft voice she reserved for him, "People like to talk rubbish. Have your milk and a fresh biscuit I baked especially for you then we'll have a look at your homework. "

He persisted, "What does poor little mite mean?" Joan thought about ignoring his question then she remembered that he would not stop until he got an answer. That is how she and Louisa had taught him to discover new things. He would only end up going to her and that would make her even unhappier than she was.

"A poor little mite is a child who doesn't have anybody to care for them. It could also be an animal. Do you remember your special lamb, Sadie? How when her mother died and she was alone, how we cared for her, you especially? Do you see how she has grown strong and beautiful? Some rubbish people would think that she was a poor little mite, but you and me know she wasn't. We looked after her and she always had us."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm glad. Now, James Henry, you're not a poor little mite. You have your mummy, me, Uncle Chris and all the people who love you and look out for you." Joan was on a roll now, but inwardly she was seething. She knew exactly who the gossips were and planned to give them a piece of her mind.

"So they were talking rubbish when they called me a poor little mite?" James asked glad to have that puzzle solved.

"That's what I told you. Remember? Now go eat and let's look at your homework. It wont get done by itself."

It took him a while to figure out that Granma and his London father were related. One day, he fell asleep on her sofa and woke up to find her leafing through a photo album. Being a naturally curious child, he wanted to know who was the person she was looking at. That was the first time he saw his father. Most of the pictures were of him as a young boy. When he asked her why he looked so sad, she told him that it was because he did not have a nice mummy like he did.

Nathan was at teacher at a school in Wadebridge. Between him and Louisa, they made enough to enjoy a good, simple life. They did things as a family which he enjoyed such as outings, picnics, zoo and museum visits, camping, football games, cricket matches and as treat, sometimes a week in summer at a beach cottage. There was nothing flashy about their life. James never lacked for anything, save for Martin. He once overheard his mummy telling Nathan that the money his father sent was for James and James alone. This was the first time he had heard them quarreling. Nathan was angry. He demanded to know why it could not be put towards family expenses. His mum started yelling and told Nathan that Martin had been more than generous. He sent large cheques, was putting away money in a trust fund for James, sent extras when he thought things were difficult and that was all she could ever ask of him. Nathan stormed out of the house shouting, "If he's so generous, why doesn't he want his son."

Nathan hadn't seen him, but Louisa saw him standing outside the back door. She pulled him inside, sat on the sofa with him and held him in her arms for a long time. It was the first time he had seen his mum crying. Being a good son, he said nothing. "James, sometimes Nathan and I get angry at each other, but we love you and would never do anything to hurt you. Your other father in London also loves you very much, but he's not able to be in our life." That made no sense to him, but he believed her.

The first time he got seriously ill was when he found out that his father was a doctor. He had heard his mother talking to him on the phone and knew that whatever advice she gave him, was what made him better. During one weekend with his Uncle Chris, he discovered that his uncle was a good friend of his father. When he got older, he would pester him to tell him about his London father. Chris showed him pictures of them in medical school and told him that his father was a brilliant surgeon who saved a lot of people's lives. Of course, he never told his parents about his interest in his London father. He just knew it was not the thing to do.

Granma didn't like talking about Martin. It made her sad. This is what James picked up. He tried not to ask too many questions, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself. When he got old enough he began searching the Internet for Martin Ellingham. He was proud to read about all the people's lives he was saving. Again, he never told his parents about this because he saw how sad his mother was sometimes.

He used to wonder why Louisa and Granma got quiet when anybody mentioned his father's name. It was Nathan who explained things to him one day when they were driving back from a football match they had gone to watch in Truro.

"Your mum and your father used to love each other and were going to get married."

"Why didn't they?" he interrupted.

"It's hard to explain. They thought they would not make each other happy so they called off the wedding."

"That makes no sense. Couldn't they have tried a little harder."

"They did James, but it wasn't enough?"

"Then why did they have me if they knew they were not going to be together?" he was almost pleading to understand now.

"I didn't know your mum then. This is all I know. He is a very important surgeon in London so he's very busy, but he never forgets to provide for you."

What he didn't know then was that Nathan had spoken with Martin a few times, especially when Louisa was too upset to talk when James or Joan was ill. Martin didn't make Nathan feel as if he was intruding, in fact he was grateful to Nathan and told him so. He got along very well with Chris and thought that if he and Martin were close friends, he couldn't be all that bad. Nathan was a math teacher. He dealt in facts and figures, things as they were, not as they could or should be.

James cringed at the memory of that conversation. Although he loved Nathan, at that moment he had wanted to have his real father with him. Keeping his mind on a busy section of the road, he continued driving until he reached a patch where he could allow his mind to wander freely again.

Two week before Granma died, she was very ill, but he still asked if he could stay with her while Louisa ran errands. He was sitting on her bed talking quietly with her, when she pulled him to her and said, "I have something very important to say to you."

He got very quiet and did not interrupt. He didn't know if this was when she was going to die.

"I love your father very much. He has always been good to me. I love him like a son just as how I love you as my grandson. James, sometimes adults get busy, they make mistakes, yet they still love you. Marty is busy in London, but I don't mind because I know he loves."

Taking hold of his hand in her weak, work-roughened hands, she leaned closer and said, "James Henry, no matter what you might hear, your father loves you very much."

That was one of his last times with her because after that conversation she became even weaker and could hardly speak. The last time was the night in the hospital when he and his mum sat on her bed after she had asked the doctor and nurse to give them some private time together. She was trying to speak but her voice was so low that his mum pulled him closer to her. "James, don't ever be afraid. You are the most loved child that I ever known and one day you will meet your father and love him." All he remembered next of that night was his mum running out of the room with him to call the doctors and nurses, and how she sat in the backseat of the car holding him as she cried uncontrollably while Nathan drove them home.

He vaguely remembered meeting Martin at her funeral. His mum cried a lot so he tried to comfort her because Nathan had told him that she would love that. When the funeral was over, and they were in village hall for the repast, a tall, grey-haired man came over, leaned down and said, "Hello James. How are you?"

He didn't know who he was, but his mother had told him to be extra polite today, so he answered. "I am fine, thank you." Because he was so sad, he found himself telling the stranger, "I miss Granma. I love her very much." Next thing he knew, he felt a tear trickling down his cheek. The man hugged him tight, took out his handkerchief, wiped away his tears and told him, "Your Granma loves you very much too. Please be a brave boy for your mum."

Then his mum came over, gave the man a sad smile, held James to her and said "James, this is your other daddy who lives in London." He remembered that she started to cry after she said that and said to his daddy, "Martin, I'm so sorry you had to meet James like this." His daddy put his arms around both of them and whispered, "James, I'm sorry. Louisa, thank you." He didn't quite understand much of what happened that day, but he liked the man's eyes. They were grey blue just like his and they were sad when he said goodbye, hugged him and reminded him to be a brave boy for his mum.

That night his mum came into his room after he had gotten into bed. He was too big to have her read him bedtime stories, but he liked when she came in and tucked him in with a kiss. Tonight she said, "Move over. Let's talk for a little. It has been a sad day." Because he was tall for his age, he had a big bed so there was more than enough space for her.

He didn't want to talk about Granma, but he had been thinking about the daddy who he had met today. Smart as he was, he didn't want to upset his mum so he choose his question carefully. "Does my daddy really love me?"

Louisa smiled. "Yes he does. He may not show it like daddy Nathan does, but he loves you." James remembered how good it felt when his London daddy hugged and how Granma always told him that he loved him.

"Granma said he had a bad mother. Is that why he doesn't show that he loves me?"

"But he does, James. His bad mother is a part of it. My little boy, one day you will understand that people love differently. Granma loves you differently from how I love you. Auntie Jenny and Auntie Caroline love you, but look how different they love you? Now it's time for bed. We can talk about this some more if you want to."

He never spoke about it with her again. There didn't seem to be any point. That didn't stop him from thinking about it every now and again.

James parked outside Martin's house, waiting on the Parsons to join him. He didn't think he could face his parents alone. The wait wasn't long, but enough for his mind to run wild again.

As he got older, he heard plenty from the gossiping that was a village's pastime. Putting bits and pieces together, he learned that his mother had been devastated when his dad left shortly before he was born. Some thought she had gotten pregnant so that she would get her hands on his money. Then there was Mrs. Tishell, the chemist, who gave him the creepy crawly. When she saw him without his mum, she would say, "Poor little doc" then say something unkind about her.

James was an excellent student, good at sports and had a lot of friends. After he figured out what had happened between his parents, he threw himself into his school work extra hard because by then he knew he wanted to be a doctor and get away from the ugly gossip in the village. When it was time for him to go to university, and his mother told him she was sending him to his father, he almost said that he would stay in the village. As bright as he was, he knew that wasn't one of his best ideas.

When he met Martin in London, he wanted to dislike him. He knew it wasn't right, but he was grown and didn't want to have to develop a father son relationship with Martin. Something else, but not that. He could be as stubborn as Martin. In time, he came to understand Martin and realized they were very much alike. Accepting him as a father wasn't easy, but as they got comfortable with each other, he saw a side of Martin that few people knew and it became a little easier to forge a relationship with him. He came to know him for the generous person he was. The thing was, Martin never blew his own trumpet. That wasn't his style. Come to think of it, it wasn't his own either. If he were fair, he was a lot like Martin - the same analytical mind and fixity of purpose. But these traits were balanced by the people skills his mother's genes had passed down to him.

One day when he was getting ready to visit Portwenn, Martin asked, "Are you looking forward to going home?" Not really, he thought. He would be happy to see his mum and dad, and his friends. Then there was the parting which he had come to dread. He knew that Louisa would be down for a couple of days after he left.

"Well, James?"

"Yes and no." What was it about being in London and missing Portwenn and being in Portwenn and missing London? "Truthfully, I now think of London as home, not Portwenn."

"Home is where your heart is" Martin shot back cryptically.

Looking at him in bewilderment, James thought it was time for him to retire. Martin Ellingham waxing poetical!

James worried about his mother being alone after Nathan's death. Privately, Nathan had asked him to look after her. James was glad that Louisa and Martin were getting along. He never dreamt that they could be a couple. What was the point, at their age? What if it didn't have a happy ending? Wouldn't she be hurt all over again? And what about him? Would he take sides? A picture of the yearning in the eyes of his parents as they tried to recover from the shock of seeing each other at the Parsons's flashed before his eyes. There was no mistaking the electricity between them. Yet, he was deeply conflicted.


	11. We're family

Lunch outside was looking a little celebratory. Martin was the perfect host. He had set a beautiful table, used fine linen and decorated the table with candles and flowers. I laughingly protested his extravagance.

"Nothing but the best for my guests," he insisted.

"But we're not guests. It's only us."

"No Louisa, everybody who sits at this table is important to me and I get a chance to show it. I don't do a lot of entertaining, hardly ever, but when I do, I want it to be special."

I thought about it and shut up. I needed to encourage this Martin. Yet, I wasn't sure how the lunch would turn out. Chris wisely said nothing to Martin or myself besides greeting us with a smile. He took his place besides Jenny when we came downstairs. Jenny didn't care, she kept up her usual chatter to nobody in particular. Martin busied himself serving us. He wasn't a talker. Me, the fallen mum? I kept quiet waiting on James to speak. We all were. I noticed that he didn't say much for most of our meal but for "thanks" and "Please." It never ceases to amaze me that when he's in a mood he looks so much like Martin, the old Martin, as he now did: face tight, lip set, a slight scowl. I knew that very soon we would be on the receiving end of a mini tirade. In the forthright manner reminiscent of his father, he went right to it after we had eaten.

"Look, we're all family and today I feel as if I'm the only adult." Martin glowered at him, but he kept going. "I don't want either of you to be hurt. I can't live that life. Dad hurt and hiding behind a wall, Mum suffering in silence. It's too early, Mum. Don't let your grief for Dad and the emotions of my graduation cloud your thinking. Give it another six months before you two get wrapped up in each other. I still have more years of medical training ahead of me and I just want things to be as they are now."

He paused for breath, looked around the table, and this was when Chris waded in. I have always liked him and will now love him forever.

Chris began tentatively. "James, I understand your concerns after all you have been through as a family, but I trust your parents to make the right decisions. I have known them for a very long time, and believe me, they have come a long way. Whatever has happened between them doesn't mean that they are going to be a couple, although I hope so. Please give them a chance. Your mum has dedicated her life to your happiness and your dad too, even though it might not have looked that way. They have been through the fire, neither want to be burnt again. Be patient. Your parents WILL do the right thing."

Martin and I were speechless. He recovered first, walked over to James and put his hands on his shoulders. "James, your mum and I are sorry for the pain our actions have caused you. We're grateful that you love us, in spite of. Louisa has many decisions to make about her future and I want to help her and be a part of that future. I have never stopped loving her and if she will have me in her life again, I promise you, I will take good care of her. There's no rush. We will heed your advice and take things slowly."

James looked pained, I could see the unease in his eyes. Like his father, their eyes never lied. He pleaded yet again. "I know it is not in my place to tell you what to do, but I just want you both to be happy."

I knew more than anyone at the table what the two men in my life had suffered as children, Martin more so than James. Yet, if Martin knew what I was thinking he would correct me and say, "For the person hurting, it's hurt plain and simple. A child doesn't have a sense of degree." And he would have been right. I looked at my handsome grown son who had brought me such comfort from the minute his life began in me and felt a deep compassion and regret for the turmoil I had caused him.

"James, I, we would never do anything to make you unhappy. We promise you."

He leaned over the table looking slightly uncomfortable with all the attention on him, squeezed my hand and said, "Promise?"

Martin and I replied in unison, "Promise."

Jenny, bless her heart, blew away the storm clouds when she asked, "Who wants dessert?" There were cries of, "Me, me," even from Martin. Everybody had apples and cheese except Jenny and me. We had wine which gave us the giggles as we remembered our conversation about my morning activities.

Before I left with James, Martin followed me upstairs, ostensibly to help me gather my bits and bobs. After we had done that, he gave me a proper goodbye kiss with a promise of more to come. "Hold that thought," I told him cheerily. "You had better make it worth my while after all the turmoil you caused this afternoon."

"Promise," he said smiling. Then, "By the way, you're responsible for the turmoil as much as I am. It took two to tango."

I laughed. "I concede. We don't miss the villagers do we? Now everybody knows what happened in your bedroom."

"I don't care. Let's go downstairs before they come looking for us." With that, he took my carry-on and led the way.

Driving over with James to his flat, I said, "I'm glad you expressed your fears about me and your father getting back together. That was brave of you. In the past, your father and I didn't know how to be honest about our feelings. We either didn't want to expose our weaknesses or offend each other. I raised you right."

"You did," he retorted with a chuckle. "I had to get it off my chest or forever hold my peace."

I didn't drive back with the Parsons to Cornwall on Sunday. Instead, I stayed for the rest of the week enjoying this other side of London. Although James had resumed his studies with him becoming a house officer at the hospital almost right after graduation, he was able to spend a few hours here and there showing me the sights and sounds of the London he had grown to love. In the evenings, Martin joined us at James's or took us out to dinner.

I spent the last night, the Sunday, in London with Martin. Earlier, we had gone for a walk around a lake a few miles from his home, then on our way back, we stopped for dinner at the restaurant where we had gone for the graduation dinner. Martin had made a reservation and we were escorted to a quiet spot, next to a window with a great view. I was feeling emotional about leaving so I wasn't particularly hungry. Martin insisted that I eat something, especially if I planned to have wine, which I did. I perused the menu, ordered a good glass of wine for myself and a salad. Martin also selected a salad and his usual water. When I asked for another glass of wine, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

When we got back to his home, Martin suggested that I have a glass of water so I would be alert for the trip home. Then he took my hand and invited me to mediate with him. A meditating Martin was something I had to get used to. He had explained that it was one of the single most effective practices he had found to relax and centre him, especially before surgery.

"I'm fascinated by the technique of conscious breathing, slowing down the nervous system to relax the body. Breath is the difference between life and death and as a scientist and surgeon, I often wonder if my patients get that. Breathing is such a natural act that we never give it a thought."

I had meditated a few times before but hadn't developed a practice. We sat in his meditation space which was illuminated by candles and silent, except for soft chants wafting around us. I found the music soothing but not enough to still the riot of thoughts racing through my head. Martin must have heard me sigh because he put his hand on mine and said, "Accept your thoughts as they come but let them go immediately. Listen to the rhythm of your breathing, it will help to block the distractions. "

I don't know how long we sat there, but I followed his advice and found it a surprisingly calming experience. I noticed how relaxed Martin was. A gentle smile hovered around his lips, and his eyes pulled me into a comforting embrace. After, we sat in silence, holding each other.

We didn't speak much that night. We were still processing, in our own way, the leap in our relationship. We got ready for bed, cuddled up into each other's arms, and almost immediately fell asleep. The next morning, Martin woke me up with a kiss, a cup of coffee and toast. We dawdled in bed for a little until it was time to get dressed. He helped me to pack, then took me to Paddington in time for the noon train. I knew Martin was shy about public demonstrations, so I reached up, kissed him on his cheek, and boarded the train for home. I watched him from the window until he was a little speck on the platform. I knew my life had changed forever. To what, I wasn't sure.


	12. No other love

Louisa and Martin settled into a routine when he began the project in August. Twice a month, he arrived in Truro on Sunday evenings, leaving on Wednesday mornings. The plan had been to work on Mondays and leave Tuesday mornings. Now that Louisa was back in his life, they spent Tuesdays either at his hotel or at her home in the village.

Most of the old timers in the village had passed away or were at High Trees. Practically all of my friends had left. Caroline Bosman had moved to Truro, Isobel was in Devon and Holly had gotten married to an Australian and moved to Brisbane to live with him.

One evening when Martin and I were entering my cottage, Pippa from my old school drove by, saw us, reversed and stopped to chat. To say she was surprised to see us together was a gross understatement. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. Recovering quickly, she gave Martin a hard stare.

"Hello Doc, can't stay away from our Louisa, can you?" she chirped.

To her astonishment, he pulled me into his arms with a smile. "Can't say I can."

"Well, well. Louisa never breathed a word about you. Are you coming back to live in the village?"

I heard Martin sigh before he answered. "Not at all."

Well, that takes care of that, I thought. Still, Cornwall was large county, all of 1,376 square miles.

"How's James? Up in London with you I hear."

"So he is," Martin answered.

I like Pippa. However, standing in front of my door, my grocery shopping in hand, Martin looking as if he wanted to bolt, was not the time or place for a walk down memory lane. It's not as if she and Martin used to get along. In that regard, she wasn't unique. Martin and most villagers, including his patients, had a barely cordial relationship.

"Hope you won't be leaving us without a proper farewell like the last time."

"No, no." he answered shortly, not wishing to prolong the conversation.

We chatted a little then she drove off. We looked at each other knowingly. The pubs would be taking bets on the chances of us staying together, just as they had done for our non-wedding. I didn't care what they thought, and neither did Martin. Seems the villagers have elephant memories.

Luckily, nobody would come knocking on our door as they used to when I lived in the centre of the village and I was glad for that. When I moved away from the village, people used to just appear at my door with the excuse that they were checking to see how I was doing far from the village and alone by myself. I soon put a stop to these prying visitors by not opening the door, sticking my head through the window and saying that sorry, I was in the middle of something. I was glad that I no longer provided fodder for their pub gossip. I had to give Martin that assurance before he agreed to come to my home. Time between us was too precious to spend fending off nosey people.

Plus, I was busy. I had finally, with Martin's encouragement, taken the plunge and accepted a short-term advisory position on the National Board of Education. The assignment was to help update the national policy for primary education. It involved weekly Skype meetings, a monthly board meeting in London and would end in December at about the same time as Martin's project. The perk was that Martin and I were seeing each other a lot, either in Cornwall or London. What would happen after our projects ended was something I did not want to think about, so I let it be although I knew it was also on Martin's mind.

* * *

After a particularly challenging session with the team, Martin and Chris went for lunch at an Indian restaurant around the corner from the hospital. They had acquired a taste for curry from their student days in London. While waiting for their meal, Chris asked,

"What are you going to do when this is over?"

"What do you mean? In case you have forgotten, I'm still a consultant at Imperial - surgery, research, lectures and so forth."

"Not that. I mean you and Louisa."

What was I going to do? I wanted to take our relationship to another level - marriage. I just wasn't sure how to broach the subject to her. I knew she wasn't settled about her living situation. She had said many times that the only thing keeping her in the village now were memories. She seemed comfortable visiting my "London Oasis," as she called it, living there might be another matter.

"I don't know. I don't want to scare her away with a proposal and destroy our friendship. I don't want to jeopardize what I have with James if it ends badly. "

I wondered if I wasn't wanting too much. James and I have a good father and son relationship, why risk it by wanting Louisa too? What if I suffered the fate of hubris if she agreed to marry me and I still could not make her happy?

Chris snapped his fingers to bring me back. With that, he leaped into a fire known as the private life of Martin Ellingham, and into which he had ventured many times before with varied success.

"Mart, you ARE a couple and neither of you are getting any younger."

"What is that supposed to mean? What do you want me do? I made such a mess of things before."

"Talk to each other about what you want out of the relationship. Louisa may surprise you. She came to see me recently, and she was glowing." Seeing the concern on my face he quickly said, "She's fine. She drops by to see me when she's in Truro. Let's get back to you."

"Let me think about it. It's tricky. Louisa is a worrier. Thing is, I'm not sure she knows what exactly she's worrying about as everything seems to be a muddle in her head."

"Listen mate, I know you have some poppycock notion about not being able to make her happy. Marriage is not about being happy all the time. That's romantic mush. What would happen to the pleasures of make-up sex if we were happy all the time."

"Forgive me for not factoring in the pleasures of make-up sex into my deliberation," Martin interjected sarcastically.

"Oh shut up. As I was saying if I had succumbed to those fears ..."

Martin interrupted again, almost shouting, "They are not fears. They are real concerns."

"Stop yelling. As I was saying, if I had succumbed to those fears, Jenny and I would never have gotten married. We had our fair share of rows in the early days, disagreed constantly about how to bring up our children thanks to some of her Psychology new-flanged ideas. Even now we differ about how to handle our grandchildren behaviour issues when they are in our care. Would I say we have made each other happy? Yes. We couldn't live without each other warts and all."

"Chris, I understand that, but with Louisa it's different. If you must know, I'm as much afraid of rejection as I know she is."

"You're happier than I have ever seen you, Mart. Louisa brings out the best in you. Or, should I say your family, Louisa and James."

Martin eyes clouded over. "We have come a long way. Beaten the odds, really."

"From what James tells me you have become a couple. He thinks you have helped her to break out of the sadness from Nathan's death."

James's views were news to me. I know we had settled in as a family, all three of us, at least when Louisa was in London. She insisted that James and Rosie join us for dinner or a short visit when they could. We had also begun to see more of Rosie and Louisa was happy about that because she thought they were getting serious about being a couple.

Again Chris interrupted my thoughts and I knew he meant well. "Don't let your fears rule your heart again, Mart. And by the way, you may want to have Louisa checked for depression. She has been through a lot."

I held my head in my hand and groaned. "Chris, there's no other love but Louisa for me. I was an idiot to let her go and now ... "


	13. Christmas

Martin and Louisa had been invited to Christmas dinner at the Parsons. Christmas at the Parsons was a noisy, rambunctious affair with their three children and their spouses, five grandchildren, Chris's brother, Jenny's sister, Martin and Louisa. Mercifully, they didn't all arrive at the same time. After years of trying to get everybody to eat at the table together, the Parsons now served a Christmas buffet and had placed tables and chairs throughout their spacious home for people to dine as they pleased.

After a delicious meal of turkey with homemade spicy stuffing, roast beef, roasted potatoes, Quiche, sprouts, carrots and a green salad, the older adults ended up in the study for dessert and drinks.

Louisa hadn't eaten much. Christmas was still a sad time for her. Her best moment of the evening was when she joined the children in a makeshift playroom to read them a modern pop-up version of Charles Dickens's _A Christmas Carol_. When Martin looked in on her, she was sitting on the floor with two of the toddlers in her arms giggling at the antics she had come up with to get a laugh out of them. She gave Martin a wide grin and a wink, when she looked up and saw him. Satisfied, he went back to the study.

After rejoining the others in the study, Louisa excused herself to go to the loo. When she didn't return after what Martin thought was a reasonable time, he got worried and went looking for her. Chris wasn't far behind.

She had begun feeling faint as the evening wore on. If she could just take deep breaths and splash water over her face, she thought, the feeling would pass. She barely managed to close the door behind her when she felt her throat and chest tightening. She knelt on the floor, splashed water on her face, held her head over the bathtub and tried to pant hoping it would go away. But she couldn't get her head and her breath to work together and this is how Martin and Chris found her. She looked up at them pale and terrified, tears rolling down her cheeks, water dripping from her hair and face, her hands at her throat, struggling to breathe.

Chris ran to the kitchen and returned paper bag in hand.

Martin knelt beside her, took her in his arms and in a soothing, firm voice said,"Louisa, you're having a panic attack. I am going to place this paper bag over your mouth and I want you to breathe into it."

Even with the bag over her mouth, she continued to struggle,

Martin in the most calming voice he could muster, said "Please take deep breaths, Louisa."

"I can't. Please help me, I can't," she moaned, as she tried to wriggle out of his arms.

Ignoring her writhing, he held her tighter and said, "I'm here, you're safe. Slowly now, deep breaths. Another one. No rush, just breathe slowly. That's it."

When she had her breathing under control, he asked, "Louisa, tell me what happened."

"I don't know," she gasped, still imagining that she was dying.

"Take your time and try to remember." Martin was trying not to sound brusque, but he was horrified to find Louisa in this state and wanted to get to the bottom of it quickly if it was more than a panic attack.

"I had begun to feel sad and tired, like my legs could not hold me up. The next thing I knew, I couldn't breathe and I thought I was going to die. I thought that if I found somewhere quiet I could deal with it. I didn't want to be a bother."

"Shush. You're not going to die and you're not a bother to anyone. See, you're feeling better already," Martin assured her gently now that he felt she had told him all he needed to know.

When she had recovered enough to talk without squirming and not wanting to spoil the evening, she tried to swear them to secrecy about her panic attack, If not from Jenny, at least the others. Martin helped her up from the floor from where they were kneeling, and that's when Chris stepped in and Jenny pushed her way into the loo.

"NO Louisa. You and Mart MUST decide where your relationship is going. You're putting yourself through needless stress, worrying yourself sick about the unknown. This is what caused your panic attack." He paused for breath. "The life you had in Portwenn with Nathan is OVER. You and Mart fell in love with each other when you met on that Interview Committee. And what happened? You both mucked it up. I have been fixing Mart's life since I met him. Since that seems to be my life's work, let ME fix this mess once and for all."

Martin blustered. "Chris, there's no need...

"Yes, there's need. For God's sake, ask Louisa to marry you now." Shaking his head in despair, he pushed them into each other's arms.

Louisa reached up and buried her face in Martin's neck.

Chris interrupted. "You're stalling. The proposal."

Louisa collapsed in laughter as Chris and Jenny backed up against the door, while Martin slid his tall frame down to the floor, next to the bath, knelt before her, and pleaded.

"Please Louisa, marry me. I can't bear to be without you."

She pulled him up to her from off his knees and answered him with a long kiss, "Yes, I will. I love you Martin Ellingham."

Chris and Jenny burst out in applause. "Let's go back to the study and raise a proper toast for Mart and Louisa," Jenny said.

They piled out. Outside the door, a crowd had gathered curious about what was happening inside the loo.

"Mart just asked Louisa to marry him and she said yes..." Chris began.

He didn't get a chance to finish before everybody started cheering. Someone brought glasses and bottles of port and right there, in the corridor, outside the loo, a toast went up for the newly engaged.

"Uncle Martin, you're full of surprises." Laura exclaimed giving him and Louisa a kiss.

Even the older children got into the act as they skipped and jumped about, in the narrow corridor, excited at this turn of events at their Christmas dinner. Laura brought them to attention by reminding them that it was time for their Christmas tradition, the exchange of gifts. Chris had told Martin and Louisa that they could bring a generic gift for someone or choose someone to gift and let him know. Martin chose Louisa, baby Martin and Jenny. Louisa chose Jenny and Martin.

Louisa was still stunned by how quickly things had progressed. She knew she was worrying too much, especially about what would become of her and Martin when he returned to London now that the Project was over. She was certain she wanted Martin in her life. How and where, she didn't know. Not in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that on Christmas Day, Martin would have asked her to marry him, in of all places, a loo and that Chris would come to their rescue and Martin would allow him to do so.

Sitting around the Christmas tree, she held on to Martin's big strong hands. The rant from Chris had forced her to admit to herself that she had deluded herself for a long time. Once more, she appreciated the gem of a friend he was to them. Martin nudged her gently back from her thoughts when Laura handed her Martin's gift. Slowly, she peeled away the gold and red gift wrap and matching ribbons from the small box. She gasped. Inside was a platinum ring inset with yjr most perfect dark, vivid red ruby stone she had ever seen. Holding her breath, she read the words on the card in the box: _L. Always, M_.

Jenny nudged her playfully, "See. You are meant for each other."

She turned to Martin and whispered, "This is more than I ever expected. It's beautiful. I have another gift for you at home."

He leaned down and whispered back, "Can't wait."

Louisa's gift to Martin was a beautiful pastel of Portwenn's harbour. She knew that when he lived in the village he used to look out across the harbour from his surgery most mornings, as he drank his coffee. She had found it at an estate sale for an art collector, and had it cleaned and reframed. There was a perfect spot for it in Martin's bedroom. From that spot, she hoped it would keep her in his thoughts. They didn't stay long at the Parsons as they were leaving on the early train the next morning. They had decided to celebrate Christmas at Louisa's cottage because it was homier than his hotel and they had wanted to make this Christmas special. When Chris and Jenny followed them to the door to see them off, Chris took Martin aside and said:

"You have made Louisa a happy woman. Congratulations. "

Jenny hugged her friend and said, "Please hurry up and get married. Don't wait too long, I know you. Don't be fooled by Martin's charm, his old impatient self is not dead. "

When we walked through my door, Martin stopped, lifted me in his arms and said, "I'm practicing." I put up a little protest, but it was so sweet of him.

"Put me down. We're not young anymore. Save your strength for later."

"It's not about strength, stamina maybe. Trust me, I have had years of practice working on delicate body parts," he teased.

"And your patients were all anaesthetized, may I remind you, and you had the support of a surgical team."

"Yes, but only one person makes the precise cut and does the delicate procedure."

"Point taken. Just remember that I'm not your patient. I'm your very much alive fiancée."

Martin laid out glasses, the bottle of champagne he had brought me for Christmas and sparkling water for himself on a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace in the lounge. The only lights were from the small Christmas tree in the far corner of the room and a few scented candles scattered around. I hadn't done too much decorating because I was going to spend most of the holiday at Martin's.

We had just gotten settled, when he held out his arms and said, "Let's dance," pulling me up from the sofa. Martin had created a special playlist for us to celebrate our first Christmas together. We never dreamed our evening would have ended as it did. We fitted each other perfectly. With his hands around my waist, my head on his chest and his face buried in my hair, we slowly danced to _At Last_, a song we now called ours.

"It's time for our toast." Martin said after we had done a few turns around the room.

"Please share a glass of champagne with me. Tonight is special," I begged. I was still feeling wobbly and hoped the champagne would give me a little kick.

Uncharacteristically, he agreed. We wished for each other everlasting love and health and for James, happiness and success. James was not far from our thoughts, more so, how to break our news to him. Just for tonight, we put it on hold until tomorrow. Tonight belonged to us. After our toast, I reminded Martin that we had other gifts for each other. I knew that Martin had slipped my gift under the Christmas tree when he had arrived earlier. His was already under the tree with others for James, a few friends and neighbours.

"You first," Martin suggested.

I retrieved a box in the same wrapper as the one he had given me earlier from under the tree. Inside was an exquisitely crafted mother-of-pearl brooch inlaid with rubies, just like the one on my ring. I stared at the brooch in disbelief.

"This is a lot for one day. It must have cost a fortune. I …"

I couldn't believe Martin's generosity, he must have spent a fortune on jewellery for me. This was all turning out to be an unbelievable day. I had to lay my head on his shoulder until I recovered properly. When I did all I could say was, "Thank you, Martin."

Squeezing me, he said, "Only the best for you, Louisa. This might be the only gift I have ever given you. May I have my gift now?"

Glad for the diversion, I handed him his silver paper wrapped gift. I prayed he would like it. In comparison to his, he might think it was rubbish. I watched him as he opened it. Inside was a keepsake silver antique box with a lock of James's hair from his first haircut. There was also a silver mold of his feet taken when he was a week old. I had hoped to give them to Martin one day but when I accepted that it was never going to happen, I had put them away. Searching for something special, a gift for our eyes only, I had retrieved them from my "Treasure Chest" and hoped he would like them.

Martin was speechless. His face seemed to crumble. He pulled me on his lap, laid his head on mine for a long time until I felt something wet on my hair and realized he was crying. We stayed like that until he settled. I couldn't believe it, I know he was crying for missed opportunities with James.

"It's okay to show sadness Martin. Just remember James and me are now in your life. What's gone is gone, we have time to create new memories." I didn't know what else to say to comfort him.

Martin's tears scared me a little. I always thought of him as invincible. What an incredible day this was. What an incredible Martin I was discovering.

"Uhm ... I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you, Louisa. To share this with me, a precious bit of James as a baby …." He couldn't continue.

"It's okay Martin. These were always meant for you when you were ready for them."

Martin was not a Christmas person. When I had asked him to come back to Cornwall to have dinner with the Parsons's he had told me why. His parents couldn't be bothered to make the season special for him and preferred to spend it in some exotic warm place which meant that he was usually kept at school with a few other unlucky boys. Not having a family when he grew up, he preferred to spend it working to give his colleagues time with their family. The hospital had its usual Christmas parties, some of which he had to put in an appearance, but he began coming less and less and nobody dared say anything to him.

That night, as we were drifting off into a contented sleep, each grateful for the gifts of Christmas, Martin nuzzled my neck and whispered "I don't want to call it divine intervention, I'm not really a religious person, but whatever it was, I'm glad I overcame the obstacles that led to you." I clung to him and whispered back, "I remember how empty I felt when James left for London but I'm grateful he did and that he brought you into my life again."


	14. Boxing Day

When they arrived at Martin's home, Louisa discovered that he had already made arrangements for dinner to be prepared by Zee, his friend who Louisa had met at James's graduation in June.

"Why on earth is he doing this? Isn't he a practicing surgeon?"

"Yes and no."

Martin explained that Zee had gone into semi-retirement after years of chronic back pain from the rigours of surgery. He hadn't left surgery completely. With time on his hands, he found a new passion in cooking. Louisa wondered if this Christmas could get any more curious.

"And what is he preparing?"

"Louisa, you have to trust me," Martin answered sounding a little peeved.

"He's doing roast turkey, baked cod, new potatoes, steamed broccoli, cheesecake, plum pudding and a gelato that James like. Don't worry, it will be here in time for dinner?"

When Martin had called Zee from the train to check that everything was going as planned, he told him about his engagement. To celebrate, Zee and his architect wife Marissa, who had done Martin's renovation, had asked his permission and for his entry code, with the promise to glam up his house in honour of his engagement. Martin, still reeling from the events of yesterday had reluctantly agreed.

Zee brushed aside Martin's protest that the dinner was enough.

"Ellingham, you're lucky I'm not bringing the entire surgical team to your home. After meeting Louisa, we prayed that this would happen. I won't tell anybody but Marissa. You had better tell Viola quickly or she'll destroy your office with her bare hands when she finds out."

They transformed the house into a Christmas wonderland. Nothing over the top, just enough to make it look and feel special in honour of the occasion. It was sparkling. An intoxicating scent from perfumed flowers and a faint aroma of spices filled the air. Christmas decoration discretely dotted the house AND, there was a lighted Christmas tree in the lounge piled with gifts. Martin had left them on the sideboard, but once the Christmas tree was up, his friends had placed them under the tree. The fireplace was ready to be lit and piped music flowed throughout the house. The table was set for three with some of Martin's special antique table settings. Everything was so beautiful that they relaxed downstairs a little before going upstairs.

Louisa gasped when she entered the bedroom. Light from the bedside lamps bathed the room, a huge bouquet sat on the table by the seating area and red rose petals were scattered over the duvet, which was turned back invitingly.

"Martin, this is wonderful."

"Oh, God," he groaned, feeling himself getting weak as he pulled Louisa into his arms.

"We may never leave this room tonight."

"Yes, we will. James will be here before you know it."

Sensing where the evening might go, Louisa disengaged herself from the moment and went to take a shower. She slipped on the green dress she had worn when they had first met at the Parsons's, her new ring and brooch, let her hair loose around her shoulders and put on little gold heels. When Martin came back from his shower, with only a towel wrapped around him, she was applying her lipstick. He took it from her, ordered her to wait, then drew her into his arms.

"I'll always remember you in this green dress. I'm glad you put it on for me."

She pulled away with a laugh, shooed him away to finish dressing and went downstairs for one last check on the table and the dinner which Zee had delivered and prepped for serving while they were still downstairs. James will love this, she thought. Hearing a sound, her breath caught in her throat when she saw Martin coming down the stairs. He had on in a matching soft grey shirt and trousers and a pair of navy suede dress shoes. The grey matched his hair perfectly and the navy shoe complemented the grey. She stood watching him with a smile.

"You look wonderful, my charming fiancé."

"You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he told her with a wicked grin.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she asked in mock surprise.

"Yes."

"No need to, I'm all yours, ready and waiting."

"Good. James is at the door."

Louisa hadn't seen James for a couple of weeks and was glad to see that he didn't look any the worse for the "kill dead" hours he was keeping.

"Are we celebrating anything special besides Christmas?" he asked as he came through the door. " After dinner at the Parsons, I thought you would want to keep it low-key here. Aunt Jenny goes over the top at Christmas, especially now that they have grandchildren. This is a lot for just us."

"This Christmas is special. It's the first time we're all together for Christmas. As you know, the past few Christmases have not been very festive," Louisa said ruefully.

"Hmm … uhm." Martin took Louisa's hands, looked at James, opened his mouth to speak, when James interrupted.

"I KNEW it. Something is special about you two? Has Mum agreed to marry you?"

Looking at their faces, he answered his own question by jumping up and hugging first Louisa, then Martin.

"Uncle Chris was right. You made the best decision for each other. Congratulations."

Louisa took his hands in hers. "Thanks James, we weren't sure how you would take the news. I'm glad you approve."

"You have made it to six months exactly. That was my major concern. The rush."

Martin and Louisa exchanged glances. Without meaning to, really thanks to Chris, they had waited six months to make their major decision.

"Let's drink a toast to my new official family." James said enthusiastically as he topped up Louisa's wine and sparkling water for himself and Martin.

"Let's make a wish."

Martin wished that he would soon get this gorgeous woman before him to himself and thanked his lucky stars that he could do this for the rest of their life. Louisa wished for grandchildren to complete her family. James wished that whether it was Rosie or someone else, when he found the one, he wanted to be as happy as his parents were. Then they lifted their glasses.

Dinner over, they sat around the tree to open their gifts.

Louisa gave James an album she had filled with special photos dating back to when he was a baby, recent ones of him in London, his graduation, a couple of them sightseeing in London and one Martin's friend had taken of the two Ellingham men prepping for the same surgery. She also gave him a box filled with special Cornish fare that he liked, such as pasties, frozen, from a little shop in the village. For Martin, there was a CD with all the songs they had enjoyed together since meeting that fateful day at Chris and Jenny.

Martin gave James a camera and Louisa, a beautiful long, red cashmere shawl, his favourite colour for her.

James gave Martin an antique book on vascular surgery that he knew he would appreciate. For his beloved mum, he had framed the hastily handwritten note she had slipped into his pocket when he was leaving home for London and was about to board the train. Smudge marks from her tears were still visible on it

It read: _James, my heart goes with you as you start your new journey. Auntie Ruth and your father will look after you. Do well. Please do not forget us. Love, Mum._

"We have come a long way," he said as he saw her about to tear up.

Martin went upstairs and returned with a small box which he placed in Louisa's hand.

"This is for you. Please open it."

Inside was the gorgeous diamond platinum antique ring that she had given back to him after their non-wedding many years ago.

"Martin!"

He gently lifted the ring from the box, knelt before her and looked anxiously at her.

"I offer you this as your engagement ring. If you don't want this reminder of all that has happened with it, we can go to the jewelers on Monday, and get another made specially for you."

"All that's in the past. I would be honoured to carry on the Ellingham tradition by wearing this ring."

He placed it on her finger. Again, it fit like a glove.

James had questions about where they would live, would Louisa continue volunteering at the National Education Board, how much longer would Martin retain his practice, how soon did they plan to get married, who were they inviting to the wedding - all practical , but none they could answer then. He stayed until the hospital called him at 8 pm.

Martin and Louisa cleared up, stacked the dishwasher and settled down on the sofa before the Christmas tree. As usual, they didn't talk much. Louisa had grown comfortable with silence.

Then Martin said, "Let's dance." He popped in the CD Louisa had given him and they danced to a few tracks. Long after the music stopped, they stood swaying to some private rhythm until Martin said that he was ready to give her his last gift for the evening.

Perhaps because they were now engaged and their son had given them his blessings, she gave herself to him in wild abandon. Well, wild for them, Louisa had qualified when she was remembering the night the following day. Low moans, sighs of pleasure, even tears filled the room for a long time as they held their private gift exchange.

Complete and exhausted she slid into Martin's outstretched arm. He was jolted back to the present when, out of the blue, she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. After waiting for a little, he found her sitting on the edge of the bathtub looking as if she was about to have a panic attack or a meltdown. He felt her pulse. It was racing.

Concerned he knelt before her and asked, "Louisa, are you feeling unwell? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, it's not you, it's me"

"What do you mean?"

As tears filled her eyes, she stood up pulled him to her, kissing him on his cheeks, grabbing him around his neck, moaning as she held on to him.

"Please don't leave me again," she begged.

"Whatever gave you that idea? What is wrong, did I hurt you? Why are you crying?"

"Just hold me," she said, clinging to him even tighter.

He rubbed her back until she calmed down then repeated his question. "Why are you crying."

"It's just that when I'm happy I also feel sad," she explained tearfully.

"Come. Let's go back to bed and talk about this."

After they were back in bed, Louisa explained. "Tonight I'm especially happy. For the first time, I have no inhibitions about making love to you. I'm so happy. Everything is going so well. I'm so happy that James is happy for us. "

The inhibition bit was news to Martin. Louisa was unabashedly creative and eager in bed. In her, he had a willing partner who helped him reach multiple levels of ecstasy. Out of bed, even her brushing against him could send him into a high state of arousal. And it was the same for her, she had told him.

"At the same time, I'm sad. I know it sounds odd, but that's how I feel. What if after you make me so happy, then you leave? What if history repeats itself?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Louisa. You have to believe me," he pleaded.

It was all his fault he mused. Earning her trust was going to be harder than he thought.

"I believe you and I don't believe you. Everybody leaves eventually and ..." She trailed off not sure if she wanted to say anymore.

"Louisa, if you're thinking about death, that's inevitable."

She was beginning to feel cross. "No, not death, just leaving. You love somebody, they leave you. You trust somebody, they betray to ... that sort of thing. I don't mean to be ungrateful but it seems I can't control my thoughts."

Chris had pointed out to Martin some time ago that Louisa might be suffering from depression. Martin had tried to get her to see her GP but she had brushed him aside and called him a fusspot. What Martin didn't know was that in the early stages of Nathan's illness he had suffered from depression and Louisa feared that her happy/sad episodes, as she called them, were a precursor to a deadly disease.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. We can do so tomorrow. This is not like you, let's get some sleep." Martin soothed her.

Satisfied that he wasn't going into medic mode after such a lovely evening, she drifted off to sleep in his arms, murmuring, "Thank you Martin for a lovely Christmas."

And so ended their special, surprising, unbelievable, incredible, strange and curious Christmas.


	15. The To-do list

The next morning, James, Martin and Louisa each woke up with an urgent To-do list on their mind.

James, although tired from a busy night in the A&E and now almost falling asleep on his feet, called Martin's lawyer. Martin had offered him this facility a long time ago, but this was the first time he felt the need to take up the offer. Mr. Beadle found the matter intriguing. Because Martin was a valued client, and a long-standing one at that, he didn't press for details, He just arranged a time to meet with James. He had handled all the legal matters related to James's care, even before he was born, so he stifled his curiosity about what this turn of events meant. Still he wanted to confirm his brief.

"Do you understand what this entails?"

"Yes, I do and I want it done," James answered determinedly.

"Pardon me for asking. Does Mr. Ellingham know about this?"

"No, he doesn't and I want to keep it that way. Lawyer client confidentiality."

"I understand perfectly, Dr. Tiggle."

Getting off the call John muttered to himself, "Chip off the old block. A man of few words."

Still, he wondered what had brought this on. Last he had heard, James was graduated from medical school and while he had been in London, Martin had called a few times to have something done involving his son. He had always complied with his brief, but now this ...

By sheer coincidence, Martin called Mr. Beadle, from his study, right after James had hung up. He gave him detailed instructions for a change to his will and asked that it be done immediately. Mr. Beadle almost choked when he got the request. Years of dealing with Martin and other high-profile clients had steeled him in the art of circumspection. However, just this one time, on this strange morning, he couldn't help himself.

"Excuse me for asking Martin, is this the same Louisa Glasson from Cornwall? The headmistress whose son is James Henry?"

"Hmmm."

He took this as a yes.

"You do know that she's still married?"

"She's a widow."

"I see. Does she have any other heirs besides your son?"

Martin cut him short. "Please, John, get it done," and ended the call.

Getting off the call, Mr. Beadle muttered to himself, "Truth is stranger than fiction. Life does come full circle. Maybe it's time for me to consider retirement."

For the rest of the morning he sat at his desk reviewing the Ellingham files, often shaking his head then getting up to look through his window. When his clerk looked in to ask what was special about this particular matter why the preliminary research about whatever it was had not been assigned to him, Mr. Beadle shook his head and looked up with a dazed expression.

"The legal matter is simple. The persons involved are as highly complex as is the situation."

Martin's next call was to a colleague, Nigel Singh, a formidable consultant internist. Hearing the urgency in Martin's voice, Nigel said he could see Louisa on Friday morning, two days away. Knowing Martin was a man of few words, he didn't intrude more than to ask the usual questions, one doctor to another. He had heard the rumours about Martin all these years, but never gave them his attention. He had nothing but professional admiration for him. He did wonder who the fiancée was, which is how Martin had described the patient. Perhaps it was the beautiful woman who was with him earlier this year at the Medical School's graduation. He had also heard rumours about Martin having a gifted son. Nobody seemed to know anything about the mother. He wondered if the patient was the mother.

After he got off the phone, Martin pondered briefly how to avoid a confrontation with Louisa about her appointment. How to get her to agree to see Nigel was another matter. He would cross that bridge later, perhaps after dinner when they were relaxing.

Louisa slipped into the loo and texted Caroline and Isobel to say she and Martin had gotten engaged. They knew he was back in her life, but only because James was in London with him.

Caroline called Louisa immediately, almost choking on the slice of toast she was eating.

"Are you well Louisa? Is this a Christmas prank?"

"Why would I joke?" Louisa snapped.

Caroline was high-strung and could be depended on for drama. She had no plans to allow her to dictate her life, no matter how good a friend she was.

"We ARE engaged. Can't talk now, will e-mail you later." Louisa assured her, not wanting Martin to overhear the conversation.

"And when did this happen, if I'm allowed to ask?" Caroline's sarcasm was thick and Louisa was having none of it.

"I said I will e-mail you. Why are you so bossy?"

Caroline would not be put off. "Louisa, why are you trying to turn back the clock? Haven't you had enough drama in your life already? Are you a masochist?"

"Please, Caroline," Louisa protested. "It's not like that. I'll tell you everything later."

"What's there to tell? Martin abandoned you, you're still grieving Nathan's death, you meet Martin when you're in a vulnerable state, you fall for his medical mystique, he hooks you in and foolishly, you delude yourself into thinking that he's your long lost prince charming and you're some damsel in distress. To top it all, you complete the fairy tale storyline by thinking that you're in love with him."

"That's enough," Louisa said firmly. "I have to go."

"Why? Is he holding you bondage in some dreary London flat as his sex slave?"

"Caroline!"

"Don't Caroline me. While you're in London why don't you go and see a shrink. You're not yourself Louisa."

"Why is it so hard to trust and respect me Caroline? Why do you always want things your way?" Louisa yelled.

"Because I'm your friend. I have always been your friend. Tell me Louisa, haven't I always been there for you? Tell me?"

"Caroline, I'm going to end this call. If your number comes up, I'm not going to respond."

This is much harder than I thought. Caroline's reaction to her news annoyed Louisa.

After she got off the call, Caroline lost her appetite, left the dining table abruptly and sat in her lounge, deep in thought, for a long time. Her friend was in trouble and she had to help her as she had always done.

Isobel was more receptive. Busy feeding her fidgety grandson, she managed to distract him long enough to text back, "At last. Talk to you later."

She wondered what they still saw in each other after all the years. Hopeless romantic that she was, she thought it was really sweet. Life with her first husband, father of the baby girl Martin had delivered, was a hell that ended in divorce. The second time around, she struck gold with Gary who worshiped her, gave her two lovely sons and was a proper father to their children. Hope it works for them, she thought, as she wrestled the empty sippy cup from her grandson. Lou Lou deserved a break in the romantic department.

When Louisa returned to the lounge, Martin came out of his study and asked her how she wanted to spend the rest of the day. He had heard the shouting, but decided to say nothing.

Looking up at him, with a forced smile she answered, "Let's take things easy. We have had a bit of excitement over these last two days, haven't we?"

Seeing that she was obviously agitated about something, he pressed some more.

"We could go for a walk. It's a bit brisk, but it would do you good."

"Do me good? Is something wrong with me?" she asked indignantly as she tried to control her tone. Martin was not to blame for her mood.

"I didn't mean that. The fresh air would do us good, then."

"That's fine Martin. I'm a little tired. Last night was a long night." she reminded him.

After dinner, they sat in the lounge relaxing, Martin reading and Louisa twirling her hair absent-mindedly. She was worrying that Caroline or Isobel might call and she wouldn't be able to talk to them freely. Neither knew that most times when she was in London, she was with Martin and not James. It never seemed important to say specifically that she was staying with Martin because her visits were not all that regular. She was glad that Jenny had not said anything to them. She wanted to handle it herself. Pretty good job I have done with that, she thought bitterly. She was also worrying about her happy/sad episodes and that she really should go see her GP.

Martin kept looking over at her until he finally asked, "Aren't you feeling well. Is something bothering you?"

After looking at him to gauge his mood, she said "There's something I have to confess."

She finally told him about Nathan's depression, the rift it had caused in their relationship, how it was a precursor to his cancer and that she believed her sad/happy episodes might be an early warning about a devastating or even terminal a disease.

"I don't want to have any secrets between us. I appreciate how you opened up to me and I want to do the same with you."

"Louisa. I'm sure there's a perfectly sound medical explanation for these episodes. It's not my area, but I'll do some research on it."

Why she hadn't gone to see her doctor as he had advised months ago was a mystery, but he decided not to bring it up.

This seemed like the perfect opportunity to tell her about her appointment on Friday.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, but just to be sure, this morning I made an appointment for you to see a colleague, Nigel Singh, on Friday. I was going to tell you some time tonight before we went to bed. I can cancel the appointment if you don't want to go, but I would advise against this."

She spun around to look at him. After Caroline, she wasn't in the mood to be micro-managed. Seeing the love and worry in his eyes, she softened. Martin was only trying to help and she didn't fault him. Not this time.

He put his arms around her and said, "I don't want to keep any secrets from you either. I'm concerned about the timing of your episodes. In fact, I blame myself for not holding back when I met you at Chris. I knew from James that you had gone through a lot. This is why this morning it became a matter of urgency. I had to deal with it because I might have exacerbated whatever it is that's troubling you."

Louisa took his hand and led him upstairs. "We need to talk."

Once they got comfortable on the sofa in the little seating area in their bedroom, Louisa went first.

"I know I swing from not talking to babbling. I want to be open with you. That was our problem back in the village. We never brought things out in the open and we made too many wrong assumptions about each other."

"I'm just as guilty. How about we chalk it down to a bitter experience and move on," Martin suggested.

"That's fair. You don't have to worry, I'll go to see the doctor."

Trying to lighten the mood, Martin teased, "I don't mind if your tears are tears of joy. I want to know that I'm pleasing you."

More seriously he went on, "Sadness, however mild, needs medical attention."

Thankful to change the subject, Martin told her about his call to his lawyer.

"I instructed him to change my will to include you. When he sends me the revised document for approval, I'll share it with you. I want to make sure you understand and approve."

Louisa thought about it then said, "That's not necessary. I have a good sum of money from my house sale."

"I'll soon be your husband and I don't want you to lack for anything. If not you, who should I have in my will? I have provided for James, my needs are simple and Imperial pays me more than I'll ever use. I have to think about your future, our future."

"That's sweet of you, thinking about our future." Louisa was pleased to hear this.

That out in the open, Martin asked, "Is there anything else bothering you? You have been fidgeting all evening?"

He watched her closely, not giving her a chance to hide.

"Since you asked … I wanted to invite Caroline and Isobel here for lunch."

Louisa thought that after her unpleasant conversation with Caroline, there was no point in e-mailing her. Face to-face, they might be able to agree to disagree about her new situation. Plus, they would get to meet the new Martin. If they didn't like him, too bad for them.

"You may want to invite them to dinner instead. Why not invite their spouses as well? Let's make an evening of it. They can look me over. Once they see how happy we are together, you might be surprised."

"Are you sure?" Louisa could not believe her ears. After her heated exchange with Caroline, Martin was agreeing with her strategy. Of course, he didn't know what had happened between them.

"They are your friends and they deserve to see me in another light after their interactions with me in the village."

"You should know from experience that Caroline is a handful. She hasn't changed all that much."

"I'll take my chances."

Secretly, Martin was glad the opportunity had presented itself. He knew he would have to face them eventually.

Remembering the run-ins Martin had with Caroline, even though he had saved her life, Louisa could see the wisdom of having everybody over. His relationship with Isobel had been more positive. After all, he had delivered her baby under exceptional circumstances, for which she had been eternally grateful.

Martin groaned to himself as he wondered if this was what it was going to be like living with Louisa. All this talking was too much for him. He would do anything to make her happy but he was more comfortable when that involved getting things done and not talking about it to death. That was how he had lived his life and he didn't want that to change too much.


	16. Chapter 16

Nigel Singh felt honoured to have the great Ellingham in his surgery. As for Louisa, he was smitten from the moment she walked in and flashed him one of her brightest smiles. He noticed how they looked at each other, how Louisa held Martin's hand for comfort and thought that they were very much in love. Whatever problems Martin might have had before with his infamous temper and imperious manner seemed to have disappeared. He was behaving just like any other anxious partner.

Nigel did Louisa's physical himself, not trusting anyone to do it to the demanding standards for which Martin was known. The physical complete, Louisa got dressed and re-joined Nigel and Martin. Martin offered to wait outside the consulting room, but Louisa begged him with her eyes to stay.

Nigel did not treat the visit as a social event. Briskly and efficiently, he settled down to getting as much information as possible from his patient.

"Louisa, everything checks out fine with your physical. I understand from Martin that you have some other issues. Tell me about your happy/sad episodes. Do you know why you have them?

Louisa felt a little wary about sharing the personal struggles of her life with a stranger. Yet when she felt Martin's hand holding hers and saw Dr. Singh's warm, kind eyes, she took the plunge and began her story.

"I'm not sure if what happened between Martin and myself goes back this far."

"Louisa, why not tell me as much as you want to share and we can make that assessment later."

She told him how her fainting spells began when she was about 11 after her mother abandoned her. They continued when her father left her alone for long periods. She would sit and worry waiting for his return from his gambling binges, sometimes after days at a time. Blacking out became her way of coping when faced with difficult situations she could not immediately process. As an adult, she sometimes had dizzy spells or fainted outright when she skipped meals, was anemic or worrying about something. She told him how she had been sad when James left for London, how difficult it had been for her when Nathan became ill and how his death had left her devastated.

"All of this made me worry all the time about people leaving me, and having to cope on my own. I was never a crier, but over the last few years, that's all I seem to do. Worry, cry, babble or stay by myself. I do have friends, and people are generally friendly, but sometimes I just want to be alone. And then I met Martin again. We got engaged on Christmas Day, and I'm not sure what happens next."

"Thanks you Louisa for sharing so much. My congratulations on your engagement."

Nigel looked at Martin and smiled by way of congratulations. Better late than never, he thought. Martin had served Medicine selflessly and with immense distinction. He could see how Louisa would be a wonderful partner for Martin. But back to my patient, he reprimanded himself.

"Louisa, why do you think your happy/sad episodes occur post-coital?"

"I'm not sure. I think it's because being intimate with Martin makes me so happy and then my old feelings about abandonment kicks in and I begin to worry if what we have will last."

Once she decided to talk about it, Louisa wasn't shy about opening up to Nigel with Martin present. She knew he had her best interest at heart. She had never really told him about her childhood so she appreciated the gentle squeezes he gave her when he felt she was faltering.

After listening quietly and scribbling notes as he went, Nigel told Louisa that a few sessions with a therapist would help her to deal with her feelings of loss and abandonment. He also, recommended some form of relaxation practice and a few supplements for the short terms. He asked her to return to see him a month after she had begun seeing the therapist.

"Please see the therapist as soon as possible."

Martin remembered Paul Milligan from Truro and suggested his name since his surgery was convenient for Louisa. Nigel was familiar with Dr. Milligan and shared with them that he had a practice in Truro, and in London, and had helped his sister to handle the sudden loss of their father.

Privately, with the consultation over and while Louisa had stepped aside to take a call from James, he told Martin, "That was a timely intervention. Good catch."

"I blame myself for proceeding so fast with our relationship. We only met each other last April."

"No blame necessary. The problem began in childhood."

When Louisa got off the call, Nigel introduced them to his practice manager who would contact Dr. Milligan's office for an appointment before they left.

Miss Williams made the appointment with Dr. Milligan's office for London, the following morning, at 10 am. When Dr. Milligan heard the name Martin Ellingham, he stuck his head out of his office to see if he was hearing right. When his practice manager told the person on the telephone that he could see Louisa in Truro, he mouthed, "No. I'll see her tomorrow, anytime." He gathered that Louisa and Martin were together at the surgery from which the appointment was being made. Milligan would have moved heaven and earth to have them in his surgery. No need for that, though, he was staying over in London for the weekend and could easily accommodate them.

He had married a pediatrician from Cornwall so he had stayed abreast of the Martin and Louisa saga for a time. Martin fascinated him. He admired him for overcoming the herculean obstacles life had thrown at him. He, more than anyone else, understood why Martin had left the village.

He had followed his career, and felt personal pride when the haemophobia was conquered and Martin was back at the pinnacle of his career. He had lost touch with Louisa and had always wondered what had become of their son. Now out of the blue, he would be meeting with them tomorrow.

Milligan had outgrown his boyish looks, somewhat. He now sported a hip, moderately graying ponytail secured by a thick elastic band, usually to match the colour he assigned to each day as his fancy took him. Saturday was a red day, he decided. He thought about it for a bit, and in the spirit of the day, selected his funky red clogs and red elastic band for his ponytail.

When they returned home, Louisa took Martin into her confidence. "I feel better already knowing that I'm not dying from some incurable disease."

"Not on my watch, you won't," he assured her with a playful kiss on the nape of her neck. He liked seeing glimpses of her neck every time she swung her ponytail from as far back as when he was living in the village.

* * *

Later, when they were getting dressed to attend the critically acclaimed modern adaptation of Norwegian playwright Henrico Ibsen's_ A Doll's House_ at the West End, she was positively purring. Martin told her that the production was one of many aimed at attracting a younger audience to the theatre, especially those from London's inner-city communities.

They were an attractive couple. Many eyes in the packed foyer discretely followed the strikingly tall, handsome grey haired man and his beautiful wife, they assumed, dressed in a red sheath that clung to her shapely body. She was glowing as she looked up at Martin with adoring eyes and he had his arms around her waist protectively as they followed the usher to their seats.

Louisa enjoyed the play immensely. They had the best seats in the house and with Martin's arm around her shoulder, she was in perfect bliss. She was intrigued by its exploration of the subservient role of women, especially in marriage. So antiquated, she thought. Her best spin was that everybody owed it to themselves to be true to who they are. She shuddered to think what might have happened if she hadn't thrown caution to the wind, gone against conventional wisdom, and decided to resume her relationship with Martin. She tugged at Martin's hand, gave it a soft squeeze and said, "I love you." He mouthed, "I love you too."

She had not been exposed to London's theatre productions, but for a couple shows while she was at uni in London. Martin had been a part of the cultural life of London since he was a boy and was comfortable with it. As they were leaving, a tall, thin graceful gentleman, who she later learned was the play's director, waved to Martin and walked towards them.

"Glad you could make it. Your investment was well placed."

Martin introduced Louisa to Bill as his fiancée and the mother of his son. Bill looked at her appreciatively and kissed her on the cheek.

"I hope Martin has told you about his philanthropic ventures. I guess you know that he's not all about surgery, even more so since James came into his life."

This was a surprise to Louisa and her face must have shown it. Bill asked them to follow him into a room backstage. It was small, minimally furnished and had a striking red accent wall filled with art. He took two photographs down and showed them to Louisa.

One was taken next to a huge billboard that read, Round in the Theatre. The other was at a reception. She looked at them closely. Both showed a relaxed, smiling Martin, glass in hand, in animated conversation.

When the theatre community saw that attendance was dwindling and that they needed to attract new, younger theatregoers, Bill had approached Martin to brainstorm solutions with him. He had met Martin years earlier when his teenage son had enrolled in a programme called Science Is Cool. Through some detective work, he discovered that Martin had been a founding board member and generous donor to the project since its inception.

Louisa's turned to Martin, "You never told me."

"He will only blow his trumpet under pain of death," Bill said gleefully, happy to out his friend for a good reason.

According to Bill, every summer The Centre staged special exhibits on various aspects of science for inner-city communities around London. The Science Is Cool project operates from a voluminous former warehouse space which the locals referred to as the Science Centre or just The Centre. Besides these special summer programmes, The Centre maintains a permanent collection on various sciences, including astronomy, medicine, biology, physics, chemistry, electronics and computers. You name it, The Centre had it.

Louisa again turned to Martin in astonishment. "Is it affiliated with the Science Museum?"

"No" he said with a smile. "Bill exaggerates. Our collection and focus is not in a zillion years near theirs. Ours is a modest community operation with a laser focus to engage and inspire teens and young adults."

Bill listened patiently to Martin trying to deflect attention from himself, then continued telling Louisa about the Science Is Cool project.

He told her that much of what The Centre featured were subjects of interest to Martin and which he was knowledgeable about. Martin's contribution was inestimable. He had created computer models for the exhibition spaces, kept an eye on their installation, vetted the wall texts and scripts for digital interactive media and was a regular presence, though he kept in the background, for talks and hands-on sessions The Centre hosted for its patrons. Though Martin preferred to work behind the scenes, many Saturdays, Bill said he would go over to The Centre when he wanted to find Martin and he would be there.

This was a side of Martin that Louisa would never have guessed. She knew he was a catholic and prolific reader, but out and about with grubby kids? Not in a millions years could she have imagined. For that she gave him a quick hug.

"I had seen first-hand, through my son, the dedication and knowledge Martin brought to the project. Because he's a great teacher, he got a lot of these young people fascinated about science. In fact, he used his vast network of contacts to get some of the more promising teens placed in specially created internships all over London to nurture their interest," Bill said.

When he had approached him, Martin had agreed to fund some of the expenses as seed money, set up an endowment fund and do for the theatre community what he had done for the Science Is Cool project – engage and inspire young minds.

"An Ibsen production is demanding work. Martin insisted that we do it right, especially because Ibsen is considered to be the father of modern drama and he wanted the young people to get that. This evening you saw how well the community responded to a quality production."

Before they went upstairs to bed that night, Louisa lay curled up in Martin's lap thinking about her amazing day that began with her visit to Nigel Singh and ended with her visit to the theatre at which she heard things about Martin which she had no idea about. Not even James had said anything to her about the Science Is Cool project.

"What happened why you got involved in the Science Is Cool project," she finally asked him.

"My involvement isn't all that unusual," he answered looking uncomfortable. "I'm a scientist, The Centre is not far from where I work and there was a clear need."

"I know. But why this project? I'm sure the hospital has many projects that you could have helped out with. Seems that it would have been far easier to do."

He looked at her for a long time, took a long jagged breath, before answering. "Uhm … It was my way of paying forward."

"Nice, but paying forward for what?" she prodded as he seemed reluctant to open up to her.

"I did it for… please Louisa …," he begged, too uncomfortable to say anymore.

"Not so fast, please answer me."

"I did it for all the people who helped to bring up James when I wasn't able. Many of the young people at The Centre have absentee fathers and I wanted to make up for that, somehow."

"What? Did I hear you right?"

"Yes you did and as I said, it's not a big deal," he said defensively, clearly misreading her response.

"Martin Ellingham, sometimes I can't believe how you have changed. That was a spectacular thing to have done."

She was even more pleased, if that were possible, when he told her that he had gotten James interested in the project and when he was able, he had brought some of his friends to volunteer.

"Mr. Ellingham, I'll have to do something special for you. I'm so pleased to learn about this side of you."

"Please dance with me. That's all the special I want." Martin asked.

Louisa noted that this was the second time since Christmas he had asked her to dance. What she didn't know was that Martin was an accomplished dancer having been groomed at his posh London public school to take his place in society. He hadn't danced in a million year, but with Louisa in his life again, he liked holding her close and moving with her to music which had brought him comfort when his world had seemed to be collapsing in on him. She had never danced with him before, not even in Portwenn when she had tried to entice him to go out with her.

"You're a dark horse, Martin," she whispered as she laced her arm around his neck and melted her body into his, swaying gently to the sound of U2's _With Or Without You. _

_See the stone set in your eyes_

_ See the thorn twist in your side_

_ I wait for you _

_Sleight of hand and twist of fate_

_ On a bed of nails she makes me wait_

_ And I wait without you_

_ With or without you _

_With or without you_

"Didn't know you liked pop music," she teased appreciatively.

"I have James to thank for my appreciation of some of the good ones. Some are rubbish."

"We have a wonderful son, don't we?" she said as Martin pulled her tighter in agreement.


	17. Chances are

On Saturday, Dr. Milligan got up early, telling his wife who was in London with him for the weekend that he wanted to spend some time meditating to prepare for a new client he would be seeing that morning.

By 9:30, Paul was in his office. Minutes before 10, he was standing at the window of his Harley Street off Harley Street office when Martin drove into the complex. He recognized them immediately when Martin got out of the car to help Louisa out. He was transfixed. They were smiling with each other and Martin, of all persons, was attempting to hug her and she was pushing him away playfully. They walked up to the door arm-in-arm.

They made a lovely couple. Paul wasn't a particularly religious man, yet the biblical teaching, about divorce really, sprang to his mind: "What therefore God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

Martin nodded hello and introduced him to Louisa.

"I believe you two might have met while you were in Truro. Louisa, this is Paul Milligan who helped me and who I'm sure will help you."

The formalities over, Martin declined to sit in on the session even though Louisa held his hand. He motioned to Paul that he would talk with him when it was over.

Louisa was a little nervous. This was her first visit to a therapist. She looked around appreciatively and Paul watched her every expression with an impassive face. She liked his office; it was relaxing, modern and attractively uncluttered with a nice quirky feel. He, for one, was a study. His sky blue, round rim glasses, ponytail, and to die for red clogs, made him look youngish and hip. She liked his kind eyes and believed Martin when he told her that Milligan would help her.

"Louisa, what is it that you need help with?"

"I guess you would call it abandonment issues."

"Not necessarily. Tell me about it."

Milligan's face was inscrutable as Louisa poured out some of what had worried her. She told him what she had told Nigel Singh about her parents abandoning her and a lot more.

"My parents left me to fend for myself, so I had to grow up quickly. My father did his best, but it wasn't enough. Money was always tight. I didn't want anybody to pity me so I learned to hide what was really happening in my life."

"Were there no adults around to help out?"

"I didn't like accepting help from anybody unless I felt they were doing so out of concern and not pity. Martin's Auntie Joan, Mrs. Norton, and her husband were very kind to me."

"So, besides your parents, who else abandoned you?"

"It might not be fair to blame them, but my relationship with men, one especially, didn't go well. I had a lot of disappointing relationship, the worst one was with Martin who walked out on me, shortly before our son was born."

Milligan paused and repeated, "Walked out on you?"

"No, no, I'm sorry. Honestly, I was the one who pushed him away, never told him about my pregnancy until I was six months along and without meaning to, had given him the impression that I did not want him involved with our baby. I really made a hash of things."

Good Lord, Milligan thought, Ellingham had a rougher time than he had let on to me.

When Louisa got to the part about meeting and marrying Nathan, Milligan asked, "Did you love him?"

She hesitated. "Initially, I loved him because he was a good father to my son. James took to him immediately. In time I came to care for him, but I had never stopped loving Martin."

When he didn't say anything, she continued. "I didn't want James to feel abandoned as I did because of my parents. I also longed for a family and had wanted more children but couldn't, not after three miscarriages. "

What a mess, Milligan marveled.

"When I met Nathan, I had no plans to marry him or anyone else. Any thought of marriage died the day Martin left the village. All I wanted from our relationship was a male presence for James."

Seizing the moment when she paused for breath, he asked, "What did Nathan want?"

She was getting a little annoyed with all the probing and answered shortly, "I don't know. We went out a few times, we had a good time and James liked him."

"Hmmm. Why did you marry him?"

"I only agreed to marriage when Nathan said he wanted children, although that was a long shot for someone my age. You see, I have always liked children, that's why I became a teacher. Because I was an only child, I knew how lonely that felt so I would have liked for James to have siblings. Plus, being headmistress, and possibly a mother of two children for two different men, would not have sat well with the School Board."

"That was a long time ago, Louisa. People's personal life hardly matters now as long as the parties involved are happy with their domestic arrangements," he told her gently.

"Despite us trying hard, I was unable to conceive. Deep down I always thought that Nathan had some resentment about that. While James was around, it was never an issue. After James left, I began feeling that I had disappointed him in some way."

_She went silent as she remembered their conversation that morning as if it had happened only yesterday. Their latest row had been about the long hours he had been putting in at work. _

_Suddenly he looked at her and said, "I always hoped you would give me a child." _

_She had lashed out in pain. "Would you have been home more often then? I gave you a child, Nathan. I gave you James. I gave you a family. I gave you the best years of my life." _

_"Louisa, that's not what I meant. I'm not blaming you. I just thought that if we had been able to have a child together, our child, we would have another child at home when James left for London."_

_ "A thought wasted," she retorted. _

_They never spoke about it again and over time it became the elephant in their marriage._

Paul watched Louisa intently. He knew she was deep in thought and wondered what in her marriage had caused the pain that now crossed her face. He was struck by how much she seemed to love Martin. She too had gone through rough times and for them to be back together, was nothing short of a miracle. Their baptism by fire would make them a perfect fit. They deserved to be happy together. He suddenly found himself getting mushy about what had to be the love story of his career and had to steel himself to stay clinical.

"Why did Nathan marry you?"

"He said he loved me, and he did. He was an only child and he too wanted a family."

Louisa told Milligan about her constant worrying, the sadness when James left and Nathan's death.

"I know James had not abandoned me, after all he was only a five-hour train ride away. Nathan didn't mean to die and leave me alone. But … it felt that way. "

"How did Nathan feel about having Martin in his marriage?"

Her face blanched. "What? What do you mean?"

He repeated. "How did Nathan feel about having Martin in his marriage?"

"What made you ask that? I never thought about it that way. Do you think he felt that way?"

When Paul didn't answer but looked at her encouragingly, she tried to describe her relationship as accurately as she could.

"When I met Nathan, I didn't have to tell him what had happened between Martin and myself. The whole village knew and made sure he knew, even before we began dating. We never discussed him. He had a few telephone conversations here and there with Martin, but they never met each other. Nathan had urged me to make my peace with Martin and to have a shot at love again, I think he meant with Martin, when he was dying. That was so farfetched that I never gave it a thought. I never thought of Martin as being in my marriage."

"Why not? You just said you loved Martin. Did you love him as you loved Nathan?

"I don't know … I loved them differently?"

"What do you mean, Louisa?"

"I don't know," she said with tears rimming her eyes.

Paul excused himself and left the room, returning with a glass of water for her.

"Let's take a five-minute break. Think about what was special or different in how you loved Nathan and Martin."

Paul turned away from her and busied himself writing in his notebook. Louisa sipped slowly. She didn't like the turn of the conversation but still felt that Paul could help her. When they resumed the session, Louisa motioned that she was ready to talk.

"I loved Nathan because it was easy to get along with him. I was comfortable with him. He didn't have any posh airs about him. He was just your regular, sport-loving, easy-going guy and a teacher like myself. He made me laugh. Martin … well, he was different. He appeared to be this unattainable person but with me, the few times we were together, he was gentle and kind. He made me feel like this amazingly special woman."

She blushed when she said, "He was, still is, an amazing lover."

"Amazing lover? Yet you burst into tears when you're in bed together?" Paul probed even deeper.

The part that caught his attention was when she told him about being so happy in bed with Martin but feeling sad because she thought the relationship might not last.

"You call it your happy/sad feeling. Do you honestly believe Martin will abandon you again, although he never did as you just told me."

Truthfully, shaking her head slowly, she said, "No. But I have no control over my thoughts. They just pop into my head and overwhelm me no matter how hard I try to think differently."

The session over, Milligan invited Martin to rejoin them. He noted how Martin's eyes softened when he looked at Louisa, how he smiled easily and how much younger it made him look. He saw Louisa slip her hands into his and how he leaned over to kiss her on her cheek without any self-consciousness.

So the problem is with her and not him. This is going to make things easier, he thought.

Martin told Milligan that he and Louisa had just gotten engaged and he wanted to be sure that she was comfortable with the relationship every step of the way. Milligan assured them that he would see Louisa in his London or Truro office, whichever was convenient to her. Looking at them with a twinkle in his eyes, he said, "A few visits should resolve the matter. I too want to make sure that after waiting so long to be together, you both enter your marriage with everyone in the best of health."

Seeing where he was going, Louisa blushed. Martin just smiled and looked at Louisa.

He is smitten, then. Big time, Paul thought.

Privately, when Louisa went to the loo, Milligan spoke with Martin doctor to doctor.

"Louisa is suffering from a mild depression, as I'm sure you know. It could get worse given her history. I'm glad you caught it in time. You know Martin, being the brilliant diagnostician you are, you would make a fine therapist. Ever thought about a career change?"

The horror on Martin's face was answer enough.

Wiping off the smile that was creeping up on his face, Paul got serious.

"She wouldn't need medication, just a few sessions to help her face her long-standing fears about being abandoned, guilt about Nathan's death and the sense of loss for the life she had. Resolving those issues is what she needs to begin married life with the greatest chance for the best outcome."

He didn't tell Martin that Louisa's marriage to Nathan had its dark moments and that their last few years together had been difficult, especially with Nathan's illness. That would have been a breach of patient confidentiality. Plus, he had seen his fair share of marriages gone wrong and theirs seemed fairly normal.

"Is there anything practical that I could do to support your treatment?" Martin asked impatiently even though he understood that Milligan was taking the correct course of action.

"I don't need to remind you that London was the place where she had to face the prospect of being a single mother and from where she fled back to the village. If as I suspect, she's going to live with you in London … "

"We haven't crossed that bridge as yet," Martin informed him.

"Then concentrate on taking her out to experience diverse sides of London, places and events that you can enjoy as a couple. That would help to erase those negative memories. I know your job involves a lot of travel, is this still so?"

"God, no, I couldn't keep up that pace forever. My assistants do a fine job of trotting around the globe. Louisa and I enjoy going out, she especially, and we have explored London quite a bit."

Louisa re-entered the room then and both men turned to smile at her. She looked at little unsure. However, her face broke into a smile when Martin reached for her hand and pulled her towards him.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yes, yes" Louisa answered in relief.

Turning to Paul, she shook his hand. "Thank you so much. You gave me many things to think about that had never crossed my mind."

"Please don't think too much about what happened today. We'll take it slowly and go at your pace."

The session over, Martin and Louisa bid their goodbye and left Paul thinking that this was one of his most rewarding sessions in a long time.

I wish them a long and happy marriage, they deserve to be together, he thought as he watched Martin settling Louisa in the car before going around to his side and driving off.

Suddenly he wished for the comfort of his wife, closed up the office quickly and texted her to meet him for lunch at one of their favourite Italian restaurants around the corner from their flat.

Louisa didn't say much during the drive home. Martin was his usual non-talkative self, though he did notice her unease and finally asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine. The session has just worn me out."

When they got home, Louisa said she was tired and went upstairs for a nap.

"I'll bring you a glass of water," Martin offered. He knew the first therapy session would be brutal and wanted to make sure that Louisa wasn't going to ditch the idea. Maybe it hadn't gone as well as Paul had said.

By the time, he got upstairs Louisa had changed into her pyjamas and was under the duvet. Looking at her carefully, he noticed that she looked very tired.

"Are you sure you're just tired. Is there something else?"

"Just tired. I didn't sleep well last night. I was worried about going to see Dr. Milligan."

Martin had been preoccupied with last edits on a paper he was preparing for the British Medical Research Council and had spent a good part of the evening in his study. By the time he had turned in for bed, she was asleep and he fell into a deep sleep immediately. To think that she must have tossed and turned while I was lying beside her dead to the world.

Mentally kicking himself, he sat on the bed besides her deciding how best to find out how she was really feeling.

"Tell me truthfully, not the details, that's private, how was it really?"

"I don't know. This was my first experience and I hated it. Dr. Milligan was kind enough but he just sat there and made me spill my gut. It is not that he asked many questions, although he did, but that I felt the need to give so many answers. I couldn't stop talking. "

"Talking is good, Louisa. I had the same experience with him and with the psychiatrist when I came back to London. It's hard work, but worth it."

"I suppose" she said, not sounding convinced. Louisa had been especially rattled when Paul asked how Nathan felt about having Martin in their marriage. Perhaps, she had not been such a good wife, after all. Chances are she had brought on his illness. She knew she wasn't thinking rationally but she still couldn't shake the feeling. So many perhaps and chances she groaned to herself

Seeing the despair in her face, Martin rubbed her back to comfort her

"Stop worrying. Have a nap. Lunch will be ready when you get up. The world looks better when you're rested and there's and something in your stomach."


	18. Science Is Cool

One Friday, Martin invited Louisa to The Centre. She had taken the train up to London the evening before and was receptive to whatever he had planned.

On the way, he stopped at his office to collect some documents. This was Louisa's first visit to the hospital although she had been to its medical school for James' s graduation. She held Martin's hand to keep up with his brisk pace as he briefly acknowledged greetings from colleagues and stared back at the junior staff and other curious hospital personnel who seemed to be everywhere as we walked down long and winding corridors. The great Martin Ellingham was in the house and with a beauty on his arm. Dressed simply in a red jumper, jeans, flats and with her ubiquitous ponytail swishing from side to side as walked, Louisa was a knockout.

Mrs. Green took to Louisa immediately and told Martin so in no uncertain terms

"Louisa is lovely. I hope you are not going to take forever to make a decent woman of her. Remember, you also have James to think about."

"Mrs. Green, please." Martin looked as if he wanted to strangle her.

"It's alright Mrs. Green. We're getting married soon," Louisa offered. She was enjoying the interaction between Martin and Mrs. Green and stifled a laugh at the next words from Mrs. Green.

"At your age, and for a man of your standing, you must set an example."

"What ...," he began irritably, thought better of it as he wanted to avoid a discussion about his private life and ushered Louisa into his inner office.

"Louisa, please make yourself comfortable. I won't be long."

His office was large as befitted his position but sparse as appropriate for his disposition. Louisa sank into a comfortable sofa in his seating area, and stretched out her legs.

"Tired?" Martin was all concern. "We can stop for tea or something on the way to The Centre."

"No, it's just a lot of walking on hard pavement. The marble floors here are lovely but hard on my feet, even though I'm wearing walking shoes."

"You haven't starting walking yet," he promised with a grin. "You'll walk your legs off at The Centre."

While Martin printed a few documents, she looked around curiously, hoping that his office might yield more insight into the loving, warm but enigmatic man she was soon to marry. The furnishing were modern, glass and leather, yet comfortable. There were a couple of paintings, a long shelf of what looked like a display of high-tech miniature surgical instruments, a ceiling-high wall of neatly shelved books, journals and electronic storage media and two gleaming antique clocks.

A photograph of James in his first school uniform caught her eyes. He looked so cute in short trousers. Hard to imagine that he was now taller than his dad. She walked over and picked it up with a smile.

"I don't remember this one. You kept it after all these years?"

"I kept everything you have ever sent me of James," he said quietly, looking up at her.

"And here's the one Chris took at the graduation." Chris had taken a photography of Martin, Louisa and James, and given each of them a framed copy as his graduation gift.

"We look so happy and you're so sentimental for keeping it here."

He looked up again and smiled. "I like seeing my family in happy times although this photograph comes at a price. I have had to do a lot of explaining about you. You're quite the mystery woman around here, you know, although not after today, I'm sure."

He got up from his chair indicating that it was time for them to leave when Louisa had a brilliant idea.

"Hold it there," she said, as she eased him out of the way, sat on his desk facing him, drew him into her and wrapped her legs around him.

"Louisa, you wouldn't be so crazy would you.? This is a hospital, my office and Mrs. Green is right outside."

"Why not? I locked the door behind me." I enjoyed the look of horror on his face and wrapped my legs even tighter as I begin playing with his hair, then pulled him down to me for a long kiss.

"Louisa! Do you have to be always on?" he groaned. I saw from his eyes that my actions were having their desired effect and slapped his butt playfully.

"Never heard you complain before."

"This is my office Louisa. We're out in public. It's neither the time nor the place," he protested feebly.

"Makes it even better. Come on, live a little dangerously."

I moved my hands to his hips and pulled him in some more and ran my tongue along his lips.

"Louisa." Again that weak voice.

"It won't take long," I said as I pretended to plead with him and quickly stuck my hand down his trousers, moving it suggestively.

He grabbed my hand out of harm's way, pulled away from me and beseeched me with his eyes to behave.

He had suffered enough I thought. Smiling kindly, I patted his head.

"Only playing with you Martin. Girls just want to have fun."

"What does that mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's the title of a Cyndi Lauper's hit song that I have always liked."

"I see," is all he said as he helped me off the desk, pressed his hair back in place, straightened his trousers and dragged me towards the door, all in one seamless movement.

Mrs. Green was very kind because she must have noticed our flushed faces.

All she said with a twinkle was, "Have a good time, Louisa. And you too, Mr. Ellingham."

As Martin was about to close the door behind us, she called him back.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"You had a visitor while you were in your office. She left a note for you."

Martin took the note, read it quickly, then threw it into Mrs. Green's dustbin, but not before I saw the name Dr. Margaret something or the other.

We took the lift two floors down that opened into a foyer. As we were almost out of the building, I saw Viola coming towards us.

She kissed Martin and myself on our cheek.

"Louisa, welcome to our humble abode. This is where we spend most of our waking hours."

Then she turned to Martin. "What are you doing here? Giving Louisa the tour?"

"No. I'm trying to leave to go to The Centre." He answered brusquely.

"It's okay Viola, it's not you. Martin had an unfortunate delay in his office." I told her mischievously.

Looking from mine to Martin's red face, she said with a grin that she was trying unsuccessfully to hide, "Very nice, Louisa. The desk or the sofa?"

"Unfortunately, none. I was told it was neither the time nor place."

"Louisa!" He sounded strangled now.

"Hmm, we'll have to come up with a better idea the next ..."

Martin cut Viola short, "There will be no next time. We've got to go," took my hand firmly in his and marched off with me.

I looked back and saw Viola grinning from ear to ear and waved back at her.

Martin wasn't amused.

After a block or two, as a form of apology, I think, he said, "Louisa, you have to be careful. Viola is my friend, I trust her. This place is a hotbed of gossip, worse than the village if that is even possible."

After that I kept quiet, and held his hand trying to keep up with him until he slowed his pace and was back to his usual self.

* * *

We slipped down an alley, a shortcut Martin said, that landed us in front of a three-level building with the words _Science is Cool_ emblazoned in steel on its industrial chic, bare concrete facade. I was impressed. The guard greeted Martin with a handshake and waved us through the security check point. As we entered a huge foyer, I saw an almost ceiling height replica of an antique grandfather's clock and was immediately intrigued.

"What is an old grandfather clock doing here in a science centre?"

"Louisa, the security camera just caught you stopping to ask that question. That's the intention. The minute you step in here we want you to stop, think and ask. Over the years, we have reviewed those pictures, and most people do exactly what you did."

"But why? Surely the young people who come here are more involved with digital and electronic technology, as well as scientific advances, to be interested in a grandfather clock. This is such an old technology, an 18th century invention, I believe."

"Good point. And how do you know so much about grandfather clocks?"

"If you remember, I was a teacher before I became a headmistress. Teaching students to read the clock is one of the ways we introduce them to numbers and basic math."

"Oh. Although the grandfather clock is old, it still does the job. It is the bridge to the new technologies. It reminds them about the passage of time, highlights the time we spend with them, questions how they spend their time, and I could go on."

"I'm doubly impressed," was all I could say.

Who knew that a clock held so many symbolic meanings. James had grown up curious about clocks and for his 10th birthday, I had given him a working grandfather clock. He had pulled it apart and put it back more times than I could count. Knowing that Martin was good at fixing and restoring old clocks, it hadn't bothered me. Chip of the old block, I used to think.

"Many of the teenager's first visit to The Centre is to see the clock. They know this museum as the one with the grandfather clock. On New Year's eve we stage an elaborate ceremony built around the clock which is rigged to work for the evening. The turn out is high, with people packed to the rafters,but they don't seem to mind. It is now so popular that we have started requiring tickets. It's all free of course. "

I looked at Martin in amazement. He was excited, talking and teaching, completely in his element."

"Last question, was the clock your idea? I know you were an amateur horologist."

"You surprise me, Louisa. Very few people know that's the term for the artisan who repairs clocks, well antique clocks. Most clocks are now manufactured in a factory so horologists are a dying breed."

Louisa wrapped her arm around Martin's shoulder. "We're full of surprises today, you and me," she noted playfully.

Then he answered her question. "Suggesting a clock was the extend of my idea. It took a team of skilled artisans and geeks, many of them from among the teens here, to create a model, assemble and build in working parts for its annual simulation as a working clock."

The exhibit halls were huge and buzzing with the sound of young people ranging from teenagers to young adults. Yet everything seemed very controlled as they appeared to be a well-behaved, enthusiastic lot. A few of them knew Martin and came over to say hello.

I had been a schoolteacher then headmistress for many years and had a good knowledge of the sciences, yet I had never seen anything like this in one space. I held on to Martin's hand and dragged him from one exhibit to another like a child let loose in a candy shop. He didn't say much and let the exhibit managers answers my questions. I could see that Martin was comfortable here and I was happy to be in his world.

At one exhibit, _Native Flowers of Great Britain_, things almost turned nasty when I asked the young woman in charge what I thought was a reasonable question.

"Excuse me miss, I don't see the Cornish Heath, Cornwall's floral emblem here. It's the only county whose flower is missing. I don't understand, can you tell me why it's missing?"

She eyed me sharply then snapped, "Questions, questions. Why do you have so many questions, and what would a grandmother like yourself do with all that information, anyhow?"

I felt my face tighten and reminded myself that she was only a teenager, but unfortunately a rude and defensive one. I had seen a lot of them in my time and knew that reasoning was not possible, especially because she seemed angry. Fearing that Martin would create a scene, I tugged at his hand for us to leave before I said something I would regret.

As we were leaving, the old headmistress in me kicked in and I heard myself saying, "You have it wrong, miss. You're never too old to learn."

Martin hadn't said anything throughout this exchange and his silence was beginning to frighten me. Instead of the rant I expected, he said, "Wait a minute" then called The Centre's manager on his phone and quietly asked whomever he was speaking with to have the young woman removed immediately. In minutes, while we were still standing there, a young man came, whispered something to the offending teenager and began escorting her away, when she walked over to us.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Ellingham. I'm having a bad day, and yes, I know that's not an excuse for my behaviour. My apologies to you too, Ma'am."

Martin nodded at her then continued showing me around. After about 15 minutes he excused himself and disappeared. When he finally returned, I looked at him thinking this was all so strange.

"Louisa I'm sorry about that. I have spoken with the young woman, her name is Melody, to get to the bottom of her behaviour."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any problems. But she was rude." I really didn't want to be the wicked witch, on my first visit to The Centre.

"No you didn't. Our policy is to deal with things on a case-by-case basis as they come up. Often, the behavior you experienced today is the only one some young people are exposed to. We send them in for a refresher course, which includes our mission statement, and this usually resolves things. Melody is a gifted mathematician but has low social skills."

"Martin, I could kiss you. I cannot believe how you have changed. " I corrected myself. "No, the real you, the gentle, kind man I know was always there has now emerged."

"Go right ahead, but let's slip into this office."

After a long, deep kiss, he whispered, "Melody's social skills remind me a lot of how mine used to be at her age."

I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"With love and prodding, our best selves usually come through. Let me share an experience I had with our son. He's not rude, but he frightened me that day."

I saw the concern in his face and smiled to soften what I was going to say.

"James was well-mannered and never a rebellious teenager. I knew he was hearing things about us in the village that made him angry, but he never said anything to me. One evening he came home, went straight to his room and locked the door. When he finally allowed me in, I began crying. He was the old you all over again: sad, angry and closed. I felt very close to you that evening because I saw you in your son. We cried, we talked and that helped him to deal with it. In a way, I was also crying for you."

"Please don't get all sad on me", Martin begged. "You have been the sunshine in our lives."

"We're just one lucky couple," I murmured.

"Yes we are. I love you Louisa Glasson. You will always be Louisa Glasson to me," he said.

That tender moment behind us, I pulled him along to see the butterflies. I knew he had always loved them since he was a child. This was one of the few things he shared with me a long time ago about his childhood.

When I finally said I was too tired to walk anymore, Martin asked me to make one last stop and took me upstairs to see the office he used when he was there for meetings. It was a small room on the top floor, that had a wall of glass from which you could look down into the foyer, the halls housing the permanent collections and a few other exhibition spaces.

"This is my sanctuary. Whatever issues or concerns I have, they pale when I see the animated faces of the young people below."

"I know what you mean, " I blurted out.

I put my arms around him to let him know that I understood and was happy to share this special moment with him.

"I love working with children. Mine were small children, full of hope, curiosity and excitement. My greatest pleasure as a mother was that by the time James started school, everybody knew him and it made his experience so much easier. I miss ..."

He turned to me. "What do you miss Louisa? You never told me why you stopped teaching."

"It's a long story. Another time. I'm really tired now, let's go home." My mood had changed and I wanted to get away from all the memories The Centre evoked. Many were too painful.

We drove home in silence, wrapped in our private thoughts.

Then an idea hit me and I heard myself thinking aloud.

"It would be nice for the children of Cornwall to have a Science Is Cool experience."

"What's that?" Martin leaned towards me without taking his eyes off the road.

"You can say no," I said to him. "It's just a wild thought."

"Nothing is wild about it. When we opened The Centre we didn't know if it was the right solution to ease a long-standing problem. Let me think about it and we can talk some more."

I was so overjoyed that I was almost jumping up in my seat and told him, "I had good time. Thank you Martin."

"Good."

And with that, the Melody incident and my low mood as I remembered my lost teaching career flew through the window.

"There are many things to enjoy in this great city, " Martin said, almost as if he were having a conversation with himself.

"I'm enjoying it already. "

I hope he believed me. He was trying so hard to show me a good time despite the demands of his job.

"There's much more I want to share with you, things for us to see and do."

"Martin Ellingham, I had better get married to you before someone snaps you up."

"There will only be you," he answered huskily, his voice dense with emotion.

* * *

A few weeks after, Martin called me in Portwenn to say that the Board has approved taking Science Is Cool as a travelling exhibit to Cornwall and if I wished, Portwenn Primary could be its first stop. Of course, I wished.

"And you will have your Cornish Heath and all things Cornwall, " he promised.

I'm glad he couldn't see me because I was dancing all over the cottage while I was listening to him.

"Thank you Martin. Cornwall will be forever indebted to you."

"Hmm."

I smiled. That's vintage Martin, get it done and shut up.

Martin told her later that it hadn't taken much to persuade the Board to sign off on the idea of a travelling exhibition. He had approached them with a proposal that showed how logistically possible it was, how it might attract funding outside of London and had even included details about the funding he had secured for its Portwenn leg. Then he had told them that it would make his fiancée, who's from Cornwall, very happy and if she was happy, he was happy.

One night as they lay in bed after a particularly intimate moment, Louisa cuddled up against Martin and said she was happy, very happy.

She was teary. "These are tears of joy, not sadness. Paul has helped me a lot."

Martin pulled her in some more to him. "I'm so glad, Louisa. I want us to have a happy life."


	19. The big one

Martin's phone rang at about 7 am on Saturday morning. From the ringtone, he knew it was the one designated for Imperial. It was Isaiah Bent, his assistant.

"Martin, sorry to trouble you. We have a critically injured patient who has already been prepped for surgery. All the readings tell me that we should go in but something in my gut says no. I couldn't tell anybody but you about gut feelings, they would laugh me to scorn and say I had lost my edge. I trust your judgement. Can you come in for a second opinion?"

Martin didn't hesitate. Isaiah was not given to gut feelings.

"Think nothing of it. Let's look at the risks of going in now or postponing surgery. Please send me whatever you have, I'll look at it on my way over."

He touched Louisa lightly and told her he didn't know when he would be back but would call as soon as he knew. She groaned, told him not to worry, she was seeing Dr. Milligan at 11 and had some shopping to do after.

Louisa's session wasn't going well. Sometimes Dr. Milligan got on her nerves with his endless probing. Today he was making her feel like a nutcase. He wasn't saying much, never really did. One particular question had her on edge.

"What are your expectations when you enter a new relationship?"

She was puzzled. "What do you mean? My relationship with Martin? Any relationship? Doesn't everybody wish for a lasting , loving relationship?"

"Maybe. Some people enter into a relationship for money, fame, sex, a family."

This was all too invasive for her. She hemmed and hawed until he finally leaned across the table and explained to her what he meant.

"I'm sure you and Martin will make a satisfactory go of your relationship. Still, I want you to understand how you act out your expectations in a relationship. This way, when there's a problem, and there will be, it will not catch you off guard and make you resort to counter-productive responses."

Inwardly, Louisa seethed. She? What about Martin?

Sensing her irritation, Dr. Milligan softened it by saying, "You and Martin will have to resolve your problems together. I want you to understand your contribution to that process."

When the session was over, she practically grabbed the homework exercises and ran through the door in as dignified a manner as she could. There was a little park down the road from Dr. Milligan's office where she liked to sit and recover. Today, she stayed longer than usual. The session had been hard work, harder than usual. As she began relaxing, she thought about how she and Martin handled disputes. Their constant rows in the village were not worth remembering. They had been a dysfunctional pair. Becoming a mother had taught her patience and marriage had released her from the need to win every argument. She and Martin hadn't experienced any serious rows. Neither wanted to spoil their new-found happiness so they dealt with issues as they arose.

There had only been one major row and even remembering it now made her cringe.

_Although they slept together in the master, Martin noticed that Louse kept clothing and other personal items in the guest room, almost as if she had set up her separate space. He ignored it, until one evening he decided to ask her about it. _

"_Louisa, there's enough space for both our things in our bedroom. You don't have to go through the trouble of going from one room to another when you're getting dressed." _

"_I don't want to move in on you." _

"_What do you mean? Aren't you comfortable here? This is our home. I thought we had crossed that bridge." _

"_Yes, Martin, I'm very comfortable , but I'm still a guest, a fiancée guest." _

_Martin got up from besides Louisa on the sofa and pulled over a chair so that he sat facing her._

"_Louisa, this physical structure is a house. Our home is the relationship we are building and to which we committed ourselves when you agreed to marry me." _

_She turned away from his gaze and mumbled, "You have never formally asked me to share your space. It just happened. We have never talked about guidelines, for example, with this new arrangement."_

_"What do you mean? What guidelines? We live here together when you're not in Portwenn. When I was in Cornwall for the Project, I lived between my hotel and your cottage."_

_"Well, we have just sort of drifted into my stayovers. I don't see a problem with my spreading out. You like your place just so, I'm more relaxed about such things._

_Martin knew she was being evasive to avoid a discussion about where they would live after the wedding. As a result, a date could not be set. Martin was content to have Louisa back in his life and knew there was no point in pushing her until she was ready. He let the matter rest for now._

_She didn't. _

"_Why does it always have to be London? Times have changed in the village, it's not the backwater you used to think it was." _

_He turned to her surprised. He couldn't see the relationship between their discussion and Portwenn. _

"_Louisa, I would be happy to visit Portwenn more often if that is what you want. I have more time now and weekends here and there would be fine." _

"_But what is it that YOU want? You never liked Portwenn so you don't have to visit out of some misguided sense of duty to please me." _

"_Where is this coming from? What sense of duty?" _

_And then the fateful slip._

"_The one that made you send cheques religiously for James, and take care of Joan from afar as a matter of duty. Yet you kept away, only coming back when there was no avoiding it." _

_They had never discussed that period in their life, so it had to come out. Coming out in this way was unfortunate. _

_The Martin she had not seen since he left the village thundered at her. "Are you saying that I should not have done those things? If so, that is stupid." _

_The Louisa he had not seen since he left the village yelled back, "So now I'm stupid? Stop trying to trip me up. You know what I mean. I mean spontaneity, not doing it only because it is expected of you." _

_"I didn't say you were stupid. Everyone has responsibilities and deal with them differently."_

_"You can say that again. How responsible were you when you walked out on me?"_

_The room went quiet. They looked at each other, neither willing to go down that path. Martin tried to diffuse the tension. _

"_Louisa, let us not go back that far. Hasn't what we have now not made up for all the wrongs in our lives or have I been deluding myself?" _

"_I wouldn't know what we have. I wouldn't assume too much if I were you." _

_"And what the bloody hell do you mean by me walking out on you? Weren't you the one who refused to tell me you were pregnant until near delivery; refused to involve me in your care; refused to allow me to see James when I came to Portwenn. Louisa, you're not entirely blameless in this fiasco."_

_Martin got up and fetched a glass of water for himself and Louisa. She took it from him without a word._

_He sat down beside her and closed his eyes for a time before he spoke._

_"Louisa, I can't go through this again. What else do I have to do to atone for my sins?" He looked at her pleading. "Please tell me."_

_"I don't know. You're the great Martin Ellingham, you figure it out."_

_"I thought I had," he shot back sarcastically_

_About to go into full rant mode again, he caught himself, softened his voice, turned her head to look and him and said, "Louisa, I love you, always will. Let's stop before we say something we'll both regret." _

_Louisa was not ready for a truce. "Oh, I have had more than my fair share of regrets. One more won't matter." _

_They both paused and in that space, Martin asked, "Are you saying that you regret us coming back into each other's lives?" _

_She didn't answer. Neither remembered what their row was about. They just knew that they had returned to a place where they had hoped never to be again. _

_Trembling all over, Louisa excused herself. "Martin I'm tired, I'm going to bed." _

_He didn't answer. Just looked sadly at her as she slowly climbed the stairs._

_She did her nightly ablutions and retired to the guest room, frightened at what had just happened. Her old fears about abandonment came roaring back. Shame and pride prevented her from apologizing. After all, she had started it. She lay awake for a long time crying into her pillow until she heard Martin come upstairs and close his bedroom door. _

_After she left, Martin was too shocked to go after her. He blamed himself for letting the matter get out of control. He knew that when Louisa was in one of her worry binges, she could be unreasonable if she felt cornered. He sat for a long time wondering how he could mend things. He wasn't prepared to lose her again. He decided he to give her some time to cool off. When he saw that she was in the guest bedroom, he thought it best to give her the space she obviously wanted. _

_Sleep would not come. After hours of tossing and turning, he got up, knocked on the guest room door. Not getting an answer, he pushed the door open. Louisa jumped up when she saw him. She had dozed off after hours of tossing and turning too. _

_She held out her arms and with tears welling up in her eyes, said, "Martin." He took her arms, sat on the bed beside her and whispered, "Louisa." That was their apology. They held each other without another word until they fell asleep in exhaustion. _

_The next morning neither knew what to say to each other. They showered and ate breakfast in silence. Martin noticed that her eyes were puffy from crying and she tried to hide them by keeping her eyes down on the table. After they had eaten, Martin took her hand and led her up to the meditation space. He lit a few candles, placed blankets on the mat, then gestured for her to sit with him. They sat for a long time until Martin started speaking. _

"_Louisa, it took me a long time to accept that I had to change. When I decided to deal with my demons, I began a long and winding journey. Sometimes when I thought I was getting there, I would have a setback which meant that I had to start all over again. Last night was another setback. I still have demons lurking inside me that I can either conquer or learn to live with. When there was a fallout like last night's, this is where I would sit for hours until I was able to forgive myself and start over." _

"_Martin ..." She began. _

"_Shhhh ... Give me a minute, Louisa. When you said I did things out of a sense of duty, you were correct. There are many things I do out of a sense of duty because it is the right thing to do. But there was more to it with you, James and Joan. Joan was really the only mother I ever had and James was my son and, yes, my responsibility. As his mother, I also had a responsibility to you. I avoided Portwenn because I thought I could never make you happy and wanted to give you a chance to find happiness without my getting in the way. You were not to know that." _

"_We, I made such a mess of things. So many misunderstandings, misinterpretations, missteps," Louisa wailed, shaking her head and wondering if they were meant for each other. _

_Seeing her despair, as she slumped against him, Martin tried to lighten the mood. "Louisa, be gentle with yourself. Be gentle with us. Remember, we're stuck with each other." _

_More seriously he continued, "Last night I was defensive. Your perceptions were reasonable, given that we had never talked properly about why I left Portwenn. Please forgive me," he asked. "I don't want to lose you again." _

_She shifted around until she was fully in his arms. "I was wrong. I always do this. I deliberately goaded you by bringing up something I knew would hurt. Why do I do this? I thought my sessions with Dr. Milligan were helping me. I try not to worry, but I know I need to decide between Portwenn and London." _

_Martin placed his hand on her head and began making circular motions with his fingers as if to calm her. "It's not about Portwenn or London, it's about us. Your decision will come when it is most needed." He invited her to consider using the meditation space as a place to rebalance her emotions when things got out of hand. _

_Louisa, looked up at him teary eyed. "Please forgive me. I don't want to hurt you, I love you too much. You don't deserve this." _

"_Look, as a couple we're not always going to see eye to eye on everything. And that's fine. What is important is that we're honest with each other even when we're afraid." _

_They sat together lost in their private thoughts, not realizing that they were similar. Neither wanted to lose the precious time they had recaptured with each other. Each privately resolved that they would be more understanding with each other. _

_Finally, Louisa yawned, "I'm tired. Never slept much last night. Can we go back to bed and get a little nap. You should be tired too." _

_Glad for the invitation, they retired to the master bedroom. Sleep came quickly and peacefully. _


	20. Home invasion

Martin's call interrupted her thoughts. He was home. "Hurry home" he implored, "I need you." Promising to get her shopping done quickly, she got off the call.

Martin greeted her at the door with open arms into which she gratefully collapsed. He's in a great mood, she thought. I can use a bit of cheer after Milligan and remembering out big row.

After she had relaxed over a cup of tea which Martin had wisely made when he saw how frazzled she was, he announced, "Your bath awaits you, my lady."

Martin had taken to pampering her by setting a bath with her favourite lavender oil on weekends, a ritual they both enjoyed. When she was settled in the bath, Louisa pulled Martin down to a kneeling position and ran her hands teasingly against his chest.

"Why don't you join me? You had an early start to your day. A bath will be relaxing."

Just as he was unbuttoning his shirt, there was a loud banging on the front door. Louisa jumped and made a splash. It was unusual for anybody to visit unannounced, let alone bang on the door.

"Hold that thought. Let me see who that could be." Martin hastily rebuttoned his shirt and ran downstairs.

When he didn't return immediately, Louisa listened, but didn't hear any voices. After a while she wondered if the banging was by an intruder who had tied up Martin and was quietly ransacking downstairs. That made her smile a little. Not in this neighbourhood. Still, you never know. She knew for sure it wasn't James, he would have called out to her.

Getting worried, she climbed out of the bath, put on her robe, pulled her hair up into a knot and went to see what was happening. She walked barefooted down the stairs, and suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

Martin was standing by the door, talking softly with barely contained anger to a strange woman – petite, youngish and impeccably dressed in a navy suit that complemented her short, stylish blonde hair. When she looked closer, she saw that his face was twisted in rage. She had forgotten he could look like that. The woman, clearly agitated, seemed near to tears, and was trying to hold his hand and he was using his other hand to keep her at arm's length. Neither had heard her coming down the stairs.

A sound escaped her and both looked up. Having given birth alone in a cold hospital room with only Joan waiting outside, endured the taunts of the villagers, lived through Nathan's illness and had him die in her arms, she was a woman without fear. In full warrior mode, she walked towards Martin and asked, "What is happening? Who is this woman?"

Before he could answer, the woman let out a scream followed by a torrent of words.

"Who is she? What is she doing here, in her bathrobe in the middle of the day? Another of your lovers? What can she give you that I couldn't?"

"Will you shut up," he shouted.

She would not stop. "For a man of your stature, you have hit rock bottom. You could have any woman you wanted, and you choose this ... this I don't know what. She's old. What could you possibly see in her?"

Louisa was livid. Memories of Edith Montgomery and the indignities she had suffered at her hand, flashed before her and gave further fuel to her anger. She pulled her robe tighter around her and turned away swiftly from Martin to face the woman.

"Who the hell are you calling she?" Louisa demanded.

Martin was just as swift. He drew her away and closer to him, held her head against his chest as if to shield her.

Rubbing her trembling body, he said, "Louisa, she's a colleague, the Dr. Kent I told you about. She has come here with a preposterous story and I'm trying to get her to leave."

Turning to the woman, he asked, "How dare you insult my fiancée? Why the bloody hell are you stalking me? You didn't get me at the office, now you have the nerve to invade my home with your wild allegations."

"I will not leave until you hear me out," Dr. Kent shouted.

Suddenly, Louisa felt as if the house was tumbling in on her and there was nowhere to hide.

Martin saw the look on her face and pulled her even closer. With a surge of strength born of despair mixed with rage, she wriggled out of his arms, again tightened the belt around and faced the woman.

Sounding stronger than she felt, she told her, "This is our home. Why are you here? It would have been polite if you had called before instead of turning up unannounced and interrupting our evening."

"You must be the woman from Cornwall, you sound like …" Dr. Kent began.

"Like what? A country pumpkin? The people of Cornwall could teach you a thing or two about manners. Yours are non-existent and you call yourself a doctor. Now, if you would just leave," she shouted.

Martin tightened his grip on her. "Louisa, I can handle this. This is not the Dr. Kent I know, please give us a minute." His voice was frightening calm but she chose not to heed it. She would not be silenced, not after seeing how this had affected Martin. The next words out of Dr. Kent made her double over in physical pain.

"I'm sorry for barging in, but it's time Martin Ellingham took responsibility for our child."

Louisa felt a familiar light-headedness and nausea sweep over her and reached for Martin's hand.

He grabbed her around the waist before she fell and sat her down in a chair in the lounge.

"Please don't faint on me. Louisa ..."

She opened her eyes and gave him a weak smile.

"It's okay, I'm fine. Just felt a little groggy there."

"Let me get you some water," he said. In record time he was back and holding the glass to her lips.

"Drink up, you'll feel better."

The woman watched them with a smirk. Looking up at her, Martin said with resignation. "You had better explain yourself. This is the first time I'm hearing about a child, Margaret. What madness is this about? "

According to Dr. Kent, she had last seen Martin at a conference ten years ago. She was recovering from the death of her mother and he was kind enough to give her a shoulder to cry on. He had walked her to her room when the conference was over, accepted her invitation to come in for a chat, they had made love and six weeks after she realized she was pregnant.

"Why did you wait so long to tell him?" Louisa snapped.

"I didn't want to. Our relationship had been long over, and I didn't need to." she replied.

Dr. Kent said she had found love after the encounter. Her husband was willing to accept the child as his own (she hadn't told him who the father was). Two years ago their marriage had ended in a bitter divorce which had ruined her financially. She could no longer keep their son in the style to which he had grown accustomed and all she wanted was a monthly allowance for their child.

Martin's shot her a look that could kill. "Do you realize this is a serious allegation with legal implications if, as I believe, it's all lies, a figment of your twisted mind?"

Louisa didn't miss a beat although her belly still felt as if somebody had punched her and her head was throbbing. She wanted the nightmare to be over.

"Bring the child to see us. Martin will take a paternity test and we'll take it from there. Do not ever, EVER, set foot at our door again unless an arrangement is in place. " With that she gently removed Martin's hands from hers, leaned on him to get up, and held his arm as they both showed Dr. Kent out.

When they were settled in the sofa, she said to Martin, "Please let's not talk about it now. Just hold me."

Everything had happened so fast that they both welcomed the silence. In their own little world, fears ran rampant.

_It pained Martin to see the havoc Margaret had caused. Something about her was strange, almost as if she was having a psychotic episode: the banging on the door, the screaming, the rush of words, the bizarre story, even the home invasion. She has never been inside my home before. Why now? Sod her. Right now, I have to help Louisa. What If she thinks I'm hiding something from her, that this entire story is true ... Our relationship cannot survive this. Two condom failures? Impossible. _

_Louisa felt the familiar fear of abandonment creeping over her. I know it's irrational but it's clear the kind of women he likes - doctors, his professional equal. This one is young, arm candy, the mother of Martin's young son. Will I have a place in his life after this? The nerve of her calling me old. _

Suddenly, Louisa got up and raced to the powder room with Martin close behind her. In a few seconds, all she had eaten that morning and the day before were staring up at her from the toilet bowl. Martin helped her to clean up and led her back to the lounge. He rubbed her back to comfort her, while she sobbed quietly into his chest.

"Louisa, Louisa." I knew it was Martin calling. I could hear myself moaning and knew I was crying because my face felt wet and the hand that was caressing my face was wet.

"Louisa, please let me explain. I swear none of this is true."

I opened my eyes and looked at my dear sweet Martin who I knew loved me. I could see the pain in his eyes. He must have been as traumatized as I was. Talking now was neither fair to him nor to me, we needed time to recover.

I caressed his hand that was on my face and whispered, "I don't need an explanation. Whatever happened between you and that woman was a long time ago. Please just hold me … We can talk about it tomorrow."

After a while, I had this crazy idea that I wanted to dance. When Martin and I were dancing, it was just us, nobody intruding in our world. I nudged Martin, "Let's dance."

He helped me to my feet and found us some music. At first we felt stiff in each others arms. Gradually we relaxed and just swayed to the beat. I felt comforted in his arms. Then I had another crazy idea. No, a lovely idea. I wanted to be as close as possible as we could get to wipe out the memory of what had taken place. I untied my hair and let it fall around my shoulder, wiggled out of my robe, watched it fall to the ground and slid back into Martin's arms. I could see Martin looking at me warily.

"Louisa, are you sure this is the right time?" He hugged me closer, "It's going to be alright. I can explain everything."

There he was banging on again about an explanation which I did not need. I wrapped my arms around him, laid my head on his shoulder and continued swaying to the music. Long after the music stopped, we stood holding each other until I pulled Martin's head down and whispered, "I need you." That was it, the closest we could ever get physically as a couple.

I watched Louisa falling asleep, curled up against me with my arms across her. I knew she was finally asleep when her grip on my hand slackened. The evening was still young, yet I had no wish to do anything but be in bed with her. I got up, locked up downstairs, turned off the lights and our phones and came back to bed. Louisa's face was so peaceful, it was hard to imagine the darkness which had crept into our lives this afternoon.

"Louisa, I will make you happy," I promised her.

Martin fell into a troubled sleep. When he woke up it was still early evening. He went to his study so as not to disturb Louisa and made two calls.

When Victoria answered, her first words were, "Is something wrong? You sound terrible."

"Yes, there is," then told her what has happened.

Victoria told him to get some rest and they would talk in the morning. Her last words were, "Louisa loves you. You both will get through this."

"Fine," was all he could say. His next call was to Chris.

If Chris was surprised to hear from Martin, he hid it well. He answered with his usual cheer. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

Again he recounted what had happened and waited for a response from Chris.

"I don't know anything about Dr. Kent, save for what Viola told me. From what she said, of late, Dr. Kent has been talking about the relationship you once had, kind of bragging. Viola filed a complaint with her supervisor. As you know the top brass frowns on this sort of thing. Confidentiality, circumspection, and all that. There is also some rumour that her skills have fallen off because of marital problems. I wouldn't worry about the son bit. Can't imagine Viola not knowing and not telling me. Of course in light of what has happened, I'll make some inquiries. Get some rest Martin."

The next morning, Louisa was the first to get up. By 7 am, she had showered, dressed and made our coffee. When she came back upstairs with the two cups, I was just stirring. She woke me with a kiss and put her finger against her lips, cautioning me to be silent when I tried to ask how she slept. We sipped our coffee in silence.

Finally, I could not stand it anymore. "I'm going to take a shower and then we must talk."

Louisa protested, but I insisted, "No, we must deal with it."

Then she ruffled my hair as if I was a little boy she was trying to comfort and said the unexpected. "Martin Ellingham I love you. Nothing is going to change that."

Inwardly, I sang for joy. I can't remember anyone ruffling my hair as a boy. I know she must have done that many time to James and I was glad. I could see him now with his long, unruly blonde hair, earnest face looking up at his mum as she played with his hair. I smiled back at her, overjoyed to hear that she still loved me.

Sitting together in bed with my arms around her, I explained that Dr. Kent and I had been intimate as she described it. It had been a low point in my life and I welcomed her company. She swore she was taking contraceptives, but I played it safe by using the condom she offered me after I insisted. It was a good quality. I left right after, called her the next morning to thank her for being with me.

"Yesterday, I swear, was the first time I was seeing her since that night."

Louisa wanted to believe Martin and deep down, she did. Even as far back as Portwenn she knew that he was a lousy liar and that he could be disastrously truthful. She heard him out not saying a word, then she dropped a bomb.

"I'm going to Portwenn for a few days to clear my head. By then, hopefully, the woman will have arranged a date for the child or whomever else she can concoct, to meet us. I will be here."

"What!" I stuttered.


	21. Crisis

Martin couldn't believe his ears. Leaving for Portwenn? He felt as if the bottom of his world had dropped out. It wasn't as if she hadn't been backing and forthing between Cornwall and London, but not under these circumstances.

"Louisa, please don't leave. Let's be together as a couple and work this out. I have no reason to believe there's a child out there. Give me a little time to get to the bottom of this."

She was resolute as always when her mind was made up. "I have to go Martin. I need time to think through what has happened."

Truth is, seeing Dr. Kent had stirred in Louisa a familiar sense of inadequacy. Deep down, she always thought that one of the reasons Martin had left her for London was because he didn't see her as his professional equal who would fit in with his London life. Of course this was not true and in rational moments she would scoff at the idea.

"Louisa," I begged, "We will have problems from time to time. I ran away once, and it was the wrong thing to do. Please don't repeat the disastrous history of our past by running away."

She would not budge.

"You say you want to leave on Monday, that's a busy day at the hospital. I want to see you off, take you to the train station. Can you leave on Tuesday instead?"

In an act of mercy, she said, "Tuesday will be fine."

Sunday is usually a quiet day for us. I spend a few hours reviewing my lectures and research projects and catching up on my reading. Louisa and I take turns preparing dinner during the week, on Sundays we do it together. Sometimes after dinner, we go for a walk. If James and Rosie can make it over, we spend the evening with them. Louisa likes to read the two Sunday newspapers from cover to cover, often dozing off in between spurts of reading and the crossword puzzle.

I have no idea what we did today besides prepare dinner, eat and sit on the sofa leaning against each other.

Neither of us slept well that night. Louisa was restless and kept murmuring words that I could not make out. My body clock was off because we had gone to bed later than I liked, so I had a hard time falling asleep especially with Louisa in obvious disquiet beside me.

The next morning I was up earlier than usual for an early start at the hospital. When I was leaving, I couldn't help brushing her cheek with my lips and telling her, "You are the only woman I have ever loved and will always love."

Bleary eyed, she squeezed my hand and whispered back with a smile, "I know, Martin. I know."

Today I would be observing doctors doing their first solo surgery. Time didn't always allow me this indulgence so I was looking forwarding to it, especially the one-on-one reviews with the surgeons. Today's surgical list was long, the only saving grace was that the morning went by quickly. As soon as I got a break, I called Chris.

He couldn't help himself and stated the obvious. "About last night's call, this is serious, Mart."

I followed suit."It's a disaster."

"I made a few calls after we spoke and have a couple more to make today."

Chris to the rescue again. He must have read my mind because in his best cheerful voice he said, "You know I will always help when I can. Please don't lose heart. You and Louisa have come too far to turn back. This must have been a shock for her, as it was for you. Be patient."

On the way back to theatre, I passed Viola in the corridor. I didn't realize my emotions were showing until she stopped to ask what was wrong. "You usually enjoy your reviews. Has something happened between you and Louisa?"

I sidestepped her question with one of my own. "How well do you know Margaret Kent, Internal Medicine?"

"Not well. My recall, and that was years ago, was that her skills were falling off and the Board had their eyes on her."

I didn't elaborate and Viola knew not to press, but I noticed that she kept an eye on me all day and my list seemed shorter than I had thought.

When I got home, Louisa was on the phone with Isobel. That was a good sign. I preferred Isobel to Caroline who could be a drama queen. I could hear her laughing so it couldn't be all that bad. She had already prepared my favourite dinner of fish and sprouts. After she got off the phone and I had washed up, we ate silently save for our usual _how was your day_ questions to each other.

Later, we sat together in the lounge lost in our own thoughts. At about 9 pm, she reminded me that tomorrow would be an early morning. As she was reaching in her drawer for her night clothes, I said, "Please, not tonight." Nodding mutely, she slipped off her robe and came to bed. It took her longer than usual to get settled, but she eventually shifted around until she found a comfortable spot in my arms. Tonight, we wanted nothing more from each other but to be close. Long after she had fallen asleep, I continued rubbing her back, not knowing if this was the last time we were sharing a bed.

Early the next morning, still in bed, I looked on helplessly as she selected her travel outfit and packed her overnight bag. When she was dressed, she sat on the bed and asked me to button her up. My hands trembled as I caressed her with long soft strokes and watched her arch her back in pleasure.

For the last time I tried to reason with her. "Louisa, there is enough space here for you to think things through without my getting in the way. You could stay with James or at a hotel. Please don't leave London."

"Buttons," she said softly. I got dressed, prepared breakfast and we ate in silence. Louisa didn't eat much, so I packed fruits and a cheese sandwich for her to eat on the train.

When she announced that she was ready to leave, I gave her a long lingering kiss. We held each other for a long time before she signaled that it was time to go. We drove to Paddington in silence. When we got there, I held her hand as if to stop her from leaving. She pushed it gently aside, reached up and kissed me on my lips. "I'll call you tonight."

"Promise?"

"Yes, Martin. Promise. I'll call you before I go to bed." Then she was gone.

I consoled myself that she had said she loved me. Yet I couldn't help wondering if our love could stand up to this new obstacle in our path.

Louisa watched Martin until he was a speck on the platform. She wasn't sure why she was leaving London and what exactly she wanted to think about. Everything was such a muddle. She just knew that she had to be alone, in familiar surroundings that had supported her through all her rough times

A few stations out from Paddington, another message came over the intercom. The train would be staying in place again for an unspecified time. That's when Jenny called. Chris had told her what had happened.

"Louisa, why are you running away after all you and Martin have gone through to get to where you are?"

"I'm not running away." How could Jenny of all persons think this? "I had to get away for a little. I need time alone to think things through. "

"No, Louisa. You and Martin are now a couple. You think things through together."

That made her pause. She hadn't thought about it like that. She hadn't even been thinking straight and had shied away from talking it over with Martin. Suddenly, she regretted leaving_. _

_I should have stayed with Martin and discussed this. What if the child was his? What would I do? Shouldn't I have talked to James about this? His life will also be affected. Perhaps I was too hasty. Perhaps I was the one abandoning Martin. Wasn't this what Dr. Milligan talked about in our last session? Well, too late now. It will have to wait until tonight when I call him. _

Jenny's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Louisa, don't blow this. You have to be responsible and extra sensitive in this relationship. Martin has waited a long time to be with you. If you remember, he didn't get into any long term relationships. It was you that he always loved. Please, he deserves more."

After she got off the phone, Jenny looked at Chris who had been listening. "If it's not him, it's her. Why do they have to do things the hard way?"

"They have been apart for a long time. Don't worry, they will be fine." Chris answered with a sigh. He was not ready to go through another break-up.

* * *

Not hearing from Louisa by 8 pm, I called and left a message. When she hadn't responded by the next morning, I began to worry. I called, texted, no response. This was not like her. I decided to drive to Cornwall. The train would have been easier, however, I didn't know what to expect and wanted to be mobile if something had happened to her.

At 8 am, I called Mrs. Green and asked her to rearrange my schedule for the rest of the week. My next call was to Chris who had promising news about Dr. Kent. His inquiries had yielded nothing about a child. Everybody knew about an ex-husband. Someone who had worked with her for the last 12 years could not recall her being pregnant and remembered that some years ago she was undergoing fertility treatment. Chris thought this was strange, coupled with the fact that she hadn't contacted Martin or his office since her home invasion.

I was more than relieved. "Well, at least I don't have a lost child out there. Thanks Chris" and hung up.

I drove straight to Louisa's home. It didn't look as if anyone was home. Reluctantly, I used my key and went inside. Trying to control my fears, I searched the house for signs that she had come home. Her bed was neatly made up, none of her usual pile of toiletries were out in the bathroom and her refrigerator was as bare as she must have left it. I checked with her neighbour, Mrs. Mills, a chatty woman who seemed to spend her time travelling from one relative to another.

"No Doc, I haven't seen Louisa for some time. I just got back this morning from spending time with my sister in Wadebridge. Is anything wrong?"

"Thank you Mrs. Mills." I said quickly and walked to my car to avoid the question.

Worried, I called James. James called Caroline, Isobel and a few friends. Nobody had heard from Louisa in the last few days. That's when Chris called.

"Mart, James called. I didn't know you hadn't heard from Louisa. Jenny spoke with her on Tuesday at about noon. She said there was a problem with the train and it was holding for a long time at stations."

I called the rail company. Louisa's train had had mechanical problems all along the route and was taken out of service early Tuesday evening.

"That's preposterous. You wait until that late to put the train out of service?"

"Sorry, sir," the clearly exasperated representative answered mechanically.

"How did the passengers get to their destination after the train went out of service?" I asked.

"Most passengers had gotten off before there was a complete breakdown. A replacement came right behind, within an hour."

"Any casualties?"

"A woman was taken off and taken to a hospital in Truro."

"Do you know her name? Which hospital? Can you do your job and give me a bit more details?"

"Sir, I can't disclose the passenger's name. You'll find more information on our website."

"Thanks." I was too relieved that there was no report of a death to challenge the woman's idiotic response. If the information was public knowledge, why couldn't she tell me then and there.

Accepting that I needed help, I headed over to the Parsons's home. I wasn't a praying man, but on the drive over I asked whomever was Louisa's guardian angel to keep her safe. If she was the passenger taken to the hospital, I hoped the problem was nothing more than a panic attack. Why she hadn't called or gotten off the bloody train was still a mystery.

Jenny greeted me with a hug. "Good news Martin, Louisa is here in Truro at the hospital."

"And?" I knew there was more when I saw her guarded expression.

"Well … Chris thinks it's her. He's on his way over to check for himself."

"Do you have the number for the hospital? Let me call and see if I can speak with her."

"That's the problem. The person whom they brought in didn't have any identification on her and has no memory of the train going out of service or who she is."

I felt sweat running down my back and the contents of my stomach rising.

"I'll keep you posted," I told Jenny as I ran to my car and raced to the hospital.

Chris was out front to meet me and led me to a ward where Louisa was. He explained the situation to the ward sister, who allowed me to go in. Chris elected to wait outside.

I could spot her a mile off, even in her pink hospital gown and a bandage across her forehead, sitting up in bed leafing listlessly through a magazine.

My heart seemed to stop and start, and I had to force myself to sound calm. "Hello Louisa," I said quietly as I drew the curtain around us, sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand.

She looked at me and I could see she was struggling to be polite and place who I was. Then she smiled and asked, "Are you Martin James?"

"Yes, Louisa, I am Martin. James, who is our son, and I were worried about you. How are you feeling?" She looked at me with furrowed brows, trying to frame an answer and I realized that there really was some memory loss, temporary I hoped. At least she associated me with my name and remembered James's. I let go of her hand gently and reached for her chart.

… _patient responsive on arrival, slight memory loss suspected, tests scheduled for Wednesday morning, 1" surface laceration on left hairline from fall, vitals good, nothing remarkable _…. _Memory loss confirmed_.

Nothing major here, I though with relief. We'll just have to wait on her memory to return. Her wound will heal quickly.

"Have you come to take me home," Louisa asked anxiously. I sat back down beside her and again held her hand.

"Do you feel well enough to come home, Louisa?"

"My head hurts, I really hurt all over, and I don't remember a lot of what the doctors says I should. I don't like it here, I want to go home … Martin James." She said my name again as if she was still trying to place me.

The neurologist, Dr. Bernard, walked in then. Chris had gotten in touch with him and told him I was with Louisa.

"Hello Mr. Ellingham, sorry to finally meet you under such circumstances." I shook his hand and waited expectantly to hear what he had to say.

"There's an empty office outside the ward, let's talk there."

I turned back to Louisa. "Louisa, Dr. Bernard and I will be a few minutes. I won't be long."

"Are you coming back … Martin James?"

"Of course. I'm never leaving you, ever. " I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Soon be back."

Chris was waiting on us in the office. Dr. Bernard said that Louisa had come in with a full blown panic attack on Tuesday evening, and that it had taken them a long time to stabilize her.

"She didn't know who she was or what had happened why she was here. The paramedics who brought her in at about 6 pm told us what had happened with the train. Apparently, she must have fallen and hit her head when the train lurched. Nobody realized that she wasn't feeling well until the call came for passengers to offload. It wasn't until they were making their last check, that they found her slumped in her seat and on the way in, she had the attack. "

"Has the police been alerted?"

"Yes. Standard procedure as you know. She didn't have any papers or anything on her."

I winced. My Louisa, alone and in distress for almost two days.

Chris patted my shoulder. "She will be fine, Mart."

I shot him a grateful look as I was no longer the surgeon, just a distraught fiancé.

Dr. Bernard explained that the memory loss was temporary, but he couldn't say when it would be back 100 percent.

"Anxiety about the problem with the train, and her long day on it might have brought on the attack, but there is some other worry. She didn't sleep well and mumbled agitatedly in her sleep. This morning when the nurse brought in her breakfast, she found her crying and calling for Martin James. Chris tells me James is her son."

"Our son," I said quietly.

Chris and I looked at each other. I groaned. That damn Margaret.

"On the bright side," Dr. Bernard continued, "You're free to take her home tomorrow morning. Give her time to get used to being with you. A private room is available. She should be back to normal in days and maybe earlier if something at home triggers her memory."

I knew Dr. Bernard's assessment was correct, yet I had to ask. "And if not days, how long could it be?"

"I don't know. It's hard to say with memory loss. Of course, if it's prolonged we could try a number of treatments, but I don't think it will be necessary."

On the way back to the ward I called Mrs. Green at home, told her I didn't know when I would be in and asked her to work with Isaiah to take care of my schedule.

"Anything I can do to help otherwise, Mr. Ellingham?

"Thanks for asking. It's Louisa. She's ill and I need to be with her."

"I understand. Please give her my regards. I know you will look after her."

Right after, James called to say the police had contacted him. They had found Louisa's overnight bag and handbag wedged under a seat where it must have fallen when she fell, and would send them over to his flat.

I spent the night at Louisa's bedside holding her hand. I tried to take a nap on the extra bed that had been kindly provided, but each time I tried to let go of her hand, she would grip it tighter. She slept fitfully, sometimes murmuring "Martin James." I rubbed her back which seemed to soothe her and she would fall asleep again only to wake up in another hour or so.


	22. Home at last

Early the next morning, Jenny brought a change of clothes for Louisa and offered to drive with us to London. I wouldn't hear of it.

"That won't be necessary. We will manage, take rest stops and get home long before evening."

"Don't be silly Martin. Louisa is not well. What if she needs medical attention during the trip? Can you drive and attend to her?"

Jenny insisted and I was glad she had. It took Louisa some time to relax around Jenny. For the first hour or so, I drove and Jenny sat with Louisa in the back seat. Then Louisa got restive, and started mumbling the only two names she seemed to remember, Martin James. Jenny and I switched seats. Louisa calmed down and fell asleep in my arms, waking up when we stopped for a bathroom break. Jenny handled that and I shot her a grateful smile. We switched seats again after our break and Jenny was able to keep Louisa distracted by chatting about all manner of things that were of no interest to me.

When we arrived home, James was there to meet us and Louisa immediately called out, "Martin James." He hugged her and looked anxiously over at me. I returned his gaze with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Louisa looked over James's shoulder at me and said, "I'm glad to be home."

Jenny helped me to get her settled, stayed with us a little, then James drove her over to her son. After a cup of tea, Louisa said she was tired and asked me where should she sleep. It pained me to see her a stranger in our home. I hoped it wouldn't be for long. I took her upstairs, showed her around our bedroom, tucked her in bed and left her.

Within a short time, I saw her coming down the stairs. "I can't sleep. May I stay with you?"

I made space for her on the sofa, made her comfortable and sat with her feet in my lap until she fell into a deep sleep.

I fixed lunch and brought it to her on a tray when she awoke. She took a few bites and said she wasn't hungry and asked me to tell her about us. I told her what had happened prior to her trip, including Margaret's home invasion; her conversation with Jenny while she was on the train; the problem with the train and how she ended up at the hospital. She didn't say much, just nodded her head, but I could see that she was trying to process the information. She dozed off every now and again but seemed relaxed now that she was home.

When it was time for bed, I wasn't sure if I would be intruding by being in the same bed with her since her memory was still deficient.

"Louisa, you're tired and it's time to go upstairs to bed. I know you don't remember things fully so I don't want to be in bed with you if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, no. Don't leave me. I want to be with you," she quickly responding, clinging to me as I tried to extricate myself from her arms which she had flung around my shoulder in near panic.

I helped her with her ablutions, without invading her privacy, did mine and fell into bed with her. She seemed comfortable and turned to me when I reached over to switch off her bedside lamp and rested her hand on my cheek. "Thank you for looking after me."

"Oh, Louisa, I love you so much. Please remember soon." With that she cuddled up against me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. We slept soundly that night, me from exhaustion and she … I guess our bedroom felt better than the hospital.

The next morning I woke up to find Louisa waiting on me to wake up. I could see the worry on her face.

"I'm sorry. I still don't remember anything more than what you and the doctors have told me."

I quieted her by assuring her that worrying about it would not help, she would remember when she was ready to process the events leading up to it.

I called Dr. Milligan and swore him to secrecy. I didn't want Louisa to think I was invading her privacy. He wasn't surprised when I told him about Dr. Kent and the ensuing events.

"I'm not surprised Louisa choose to deal with it this way. She has to work out her issues herself. It will take some time, but she will. She'll come to see me when she's ready. Be patient Martin. From what you have described, her memory loss is short-term."

I knew Milligan was correct, but it was so frustrating, this thing called patience.

Our day was uneventful, beautiful really. Nothing mattered more than having Louisa safe and at home with me. Despite her wandering around the house, poking around in cupboards and even on her computer, nothing helped. I wanted to have her talk with Caroline or Isobel, but thought better of it. The stress of trying to remember might be too much. We fixed dinner together and I was amazed at how much she did without my prompting, almost as if she had retained her memory of such a mundane task which we always did together. As expected, she still didn't have much of an appetite. I didn't push, I knew she was preoccupied trying to remember.

As we sat together listening to music, she asked me to tell her about James. "I know he's our son, I see the resemblance, but I can't remember anything about him. I'm so sorry …"

It pained me to see Louisa struggling to remember James. I wished I could erase the horrible experience with Margaret which had led to her leaving for Portwenn. I realized she was looking at me expectantly with one of her trademark bright smiles, so I swallowed and got on with it.

I filled her in on as much as I knew. Early in, I remembered that I had the photo albums of him growing up which she had faithfully given me over the years, even when my response to each had been a scared, polite thank-you note.

She inspected the photos, occasionally wanting to know more about a particular one. When she saw Auntie Joan holding James as a baby, she looked at me then at Joan. "Are you related? You resemble each other."

That took us off on a whole other tangent about my family tree and my connection to Cornwall. There were no questions about Nathan and why I wasn't in any of the photos and for that I was grateful.

The next morning, Saturday, I was awakened by Louisa shaking me.

"Martin."

I jumped up in alarm fearing that something was wrong with her. "Louisa, are you feeling ill?

"No, I'm just sorry that I can't remember anything more."

Then the question came. "If James is our son, why aren't you in any of his baby photos?"

That morning we stayed in bed for a long time while I explained how I had met her when I came to interview for the GP position in the village, our on-and-off romance, our mutual jilting on our wedding day, her pregnancy and my leaving the village.

When I was finished, we were silent for a long time. "Did you always love me?" she asked searching my face for an answer.

"Always."

"Did I always love you?

"That's what you told me."

"Tell me about Nathan?"

I groaned inwardly. What the hell did I know about him that could not be found in his obit or from a casual chat with someone from the village. She took my hesitation as a no.

"You don't have to answer. You have helped me enough already."

Then I remembered that her memory of him was zero and shared the little I knew which seemed to satisfy her curiosity.

I told her about her lavender oil weekend baths and asked if she wanted me to set one for her, to which she said, yes. When it was ready, she asked me to stay with her.

I wanted to, but I couldn't. Not with her memory loss. That would be too invasive. I had agreed to share our bed with her, but to see her unclothed, defenseless, no. I agreed to a compromise. I would stay in the bedroom while she was in the en suite, that way we would be in calling distance of each other. I couldn't help thinking what else would we have to compromise on before her memory returned.

James and Rosie came over for dinner. Looking at us, we looked like a normal family having a meal. You would never guess that there was such turmoil in our household. Louisa was talking a little more and asking questions. When James and Rosie were leaving she asked James when he was going to get married to Rosie.

"When we finish our programme, Mum." She kissed him back, "Don't wait too long."

James and I looked at each other over her head. Where was this coming from?

As we did the night before, we spent some time on the sofa listening to music before going upstairs to bed. When we were settled, she asked in a small voice, "May I kiss you?"

I was shocked. That would be like kissing a stranger.

"Louisa, you don't have to rush anything. When your memory returns, we can resume that side of our relationship." I didn't want to force anything. What if a medical disaster happened and she never regained her memory. "Oh God," I groaned.

"I'm sorry for asking" she said in a small voice.

"No, that wasn't meant for you. I just don't want to do anything you or I will regret."

Before I knew it, she leaned over, held my face and gave me a long, slow kiss.

"Thanks for looking after me. I feel safe with you."

She crawled on top of me and deepened her kiss. I couldn't help it. I returned it with equal ardour. I'm not sure when we fell asleep but the next morning , without even opening my eyes, I felt her cuddled up against me as she normally would be.

"Sleepyhead," I murmured.

Turning around to face me she said, "I have something to tell you."

Fully awake now, I asked, "Are you feeling ill?" I thought our kiss last night might have brought back unpleasant memories.

"No, I'm well." Then she gave me the best news ever. "I remember now. I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you," she said with a slight tremour in her voice.

"All that matters is that you are here safe with me Louisa …" I couldn't continue. To think I had brought this on her.

Still I had a few questions. "Why didn't you call me? I would have come."

"I kept thinking that we would eventually get there and I kept wanting to turn back and come back to you, then I lost track of time. As more people kept getting off the train, I began feeling ill. I wanted to call for help but I was embarrassed and everything was so noisy. Children were hungry, parents were angry, everybody was late, missing their connections, and I didn't want to add to the confusion. I thought that if I closed my eyes I would feel better, then I didn't remember anything after until this morning," her voice trailed off.

"Do you remember exactly when your memory came back, what made you remember," I asked gently.

She giggled, "It was your ears. I got up to go to the loo and when I came back into bed I couldn't stop staring at your beautiful ears. When James was growing up that was one thing about him that always reminded me of you – his ears. They don't jut out as much as yours, but he has your ears."

We both burst out laughing. After we had laid quietly for a time I announced, "Time to get up. I I'll fix your breakfast, you are not out of the woods as yet."

I decided to save the questioning for another time and went to take a shower. When I got back into the bedroom, Louisa was fast asleep. I pulled the cover over her and went downstairs.

Breakfast ready, I brought up coffee, toast, eggs and orange slices on a tray for both of us. Louisa slid from under the duvet with a big yawn and joined me on the sofa.

"This is such a treat, thank you Martin."

I gave her a peck on the cheek and watched as she ate hungrily.

" I am glad I have my memory back. I didn't mean to not call you and ... I left because I wanted to talk things over with Joan."

I couldn't believe what she said. Was she slipping back?

"Joan? Joan is dead," I said softly.

"Please don't think I'm silly. When I say I talk with Joan, what I do is imagine I'm talking with her and somehow all the wise things she would say comes to me. I have done this ever since she died. I was very afraid of Dr. Kent. I didn't know what I would do if you had a son and both became a part of your life. I was worried about me and James. I know Joan would help me to think things through."

"Is this what your leaving was all about? Louisa, there never has, never will be anybody but you. And by the way, she does not have a son, not for me or anybody else. Chris is still investigating the matter. Please believe me, she never has nor ever will be a threat to you or to our happiness."

We sat there not saying much until we finished eating, I went to the bathroom and while I was finishing up after brushing my teeth once again, Louisa joined me.

"I'll be out in a sec," I told her thinking she still wasn't feeling well.

"No, no. I wanted to make up for lost time, for all the worry."

"In the bathroom?" I wasn't sure what she was getting at.

"Yes the bathroom. Let me jog YOUR memory." And she proceeded to do just that.

Later, when things had calmed down, Louisa informed me that she had called Dr. Milligan and had scheduled a few sessions with him. She realized that her insecurities about herself and towards me were still an issue and she needed more professional help to put it behind her. So Milligan was right, again.

"I have a favour to ask you Martin."

"Whatever you want Louisa. Please tell me."

"I know I have my insecurities but … do you think I could get to know some of your friends, if it's not asking too much?"

Only then did it strike me that when Louisa was in London, she was without her circle of close friends. James was busy and although my schedule was lighter than it had been in years, most days I left the house for work or was holed up in my study working on the computer.

I gently caressed her beautiful, anxious face. "It's not too much Louisa. The next time Imperial has one of their fundraising events, I'll get us tickets. Jenny and Chris usually come up for a few of them."

The look on her face was precious. If this was all she wanted to feel comfortable and at home in London with me, it was a small price to pay.


	23. Firing squad

After debating if she even wanted to go through with it, Louisa decided to go ahead with the dinner. Like Martin she knew she had to face her friends and decided to get it over and done with. She hadn't spoken to Caroline since their angry exchange and had no plans to do so until they were face-to-face.

One evening she told Martin she wanted to have the dinner on the first Saturday in April. By then, the daffodils, the first flower of spring, would be coming up. She had always liked daffodils as a symbol of a new beginning, out from cold and dreary into warm and sunny. She hoped that her friends would accept her upcoming marriage as her new beginning.

"We don't have to do it here, you know," he said. "We could always have it at a restaurant. It might be easier."

"No, they are my friends. We will have it here."

At 5:30 pm sharp, the Bosman's and Elliott's rang the doorbell. They had driven up from Cornwall together after deciding to make a weekend of it in London.

Tom, Caroline's husband who had learned diplomacy from years at the helm of his real estate business, had told her in no uncertain terms that she was to be on her best behavior. He reminded her that when Martin was the village GP, he had saved her life by correctly diagnosing that she was suffering from untreated diabetes and not alcoholism. Her response to both was a snort. She hoped that this evening, she could save Louisa from certain unhappiness. Tom loved Caroline but meddling in Louisa's and Martin's life was unacceptable. He respected Martin for his prodigious medical skills and was proud to say he knew him when news about the brilliant Martin Ellingham came out in the media. His last words to his wife were, "Please remember that we are their guest and act civil. You don't have to like him. I'm sure Louisa doesn't care what you think about him."

Isobel was delighted that Louisa's life had come full circle and she had found love with Martin again. Gary didn't feel the need to have an opinion as he had never met Martin. He concentrated on preparing the salad Isobel had asked him to make as their gift, with ingredients from his organic vegetable and herb garden.

Martin and Louisa greeted them at the door. Martin smiled guardedly as he ushered them in. Louisa introduced him to Gary and he nodded in recognition at Isobel and Tom. To Caroline who he suspected had caused Louisa some anxiety at the news of their engagement, he asked, "Are you keeping well? Everything under control?"

She knew what he was referring to and with Tom looking at her she had the grace to smile and say, "Thanks for asking Martin. I'm doing well. And you?"

Looking at Louisa, Martin answered, "Oh, I'm fine. Just fine."

Louisa was radiant. Her hair was caught in a ponytail with an emerald green antique hair clip Martin had given her as a surprise on one of her weekend visits. She had on a green floral dress that fitted her to perfection. Martin had helped her choose it and had insisted on paying for it. But before doing so, the sales assistant had offered to go with Louisa to the lingerie department to look at a particular set of underclothing which would have been perfect for the dress. When Louisa came back empty-handed Martin raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Everything is lovely but pricey. What I have will do."

"No, no, it's a special occasion," Martin had insisted. "Select something nice. My treat."

In the end, he had treated her to quite a few sets of bras and matching knickers despite her almost fainting when she glimpsed the bill.

"Don't worry. They are beautiful. Think that you're wearing them for my viewing pleasure."

"What viewing? When I'm around you they are not on for very long," she countered.

"Half the pleasure is the anticipation of seeing you in them." he said.

"Furthermore, we'll soon be married. I like treating you to nice things. Please allow me these small pleasures."

And so Louisa was feeling confident about meeting her friends, even Caroline, because she knew Martin supported her and she enjoyed the little game of him watching her, and waiting for when they could be alone. When she was getting dressed, he had told her that she was beautiful and if the evening didn't turn out as she hoped, it wouldn't be her fault.

Martin thanked Gary and Isobel for their salad and bouquet and Tom and Caroline for their beautiful vase.

Gary had been a successful floral designer before he became an organic farmer. Once a designer, always a designer. Therefore, he had arranged an assortment of herbs and vegetables, mounted them on twigs and made them into a beautiful bouquet interspersed with daffodils.

Louisa was intrigued, especially when she saw the daffodils. She held the bouquet looking at it intently, savouring the intermingled scents.

"These are beautiful. They would be lovely for my wedding. Could you do something like this for me? Nothing fussy," she assured him. Gary was delighted and agreed immediately.

At the mention of the word wedding, Caroline asked if a date had been set. Sensing trouble, Louisa said they would talk about it later and offered everybody drinks. When they were seated and with their glass in hand, she managed to steer the conversation away from the wedding.

At their request, and while the men were chatting over drinks, Louisa took Caroline and Isobel for a mini-tour of the house. Caroline was lost for words, a rare occurrence, when Louisa told her that the furnishing and decor were all Martin's. She would never have thought. Although, she was gracious enough to remember that with his Saville Row suits for which he was known in the village, this was exactly the kind of home he would have in London. Looking at him, she had to concede that he was nothing near the Doc Martin she once knew. Sure, he was older, fully grey, trimmer than she remembered and so obviously in love with Louisa that she almost made to forgive him. Not yet, she warned herself.

Isobel the Romantic's only wish was for Lou Lou's happiness. Her eyes widened when she saw the master bedroom.

"Lou, Lou, to think this is where you spend your nights. I love everything about it."

She couldn't help herself and before anyone could stop her, she jumped on the bed and began rolling around. "I'm testing it" she told Louisa who looked at her as if she had gone mad.

Wagging her finger at Louisa, she said, "I want to be sure that Martin in looking after you properly."

"And in comfort," Louisa added, laughing at her friend's antics.

"And in luxury. This room is quite a spread," Isobel shrieked when Louisa threw a pillow at her.

"So Louisa," Caroline asked, "This looks like a nice love nest. I hope you insisted on a new mattress at least, when you moved in. Who knows who else has shared this bed with Martin."

Louisa was furious at Caroline's insensitivity and couldn't understand why she behaving like this. "I'm not a fool. I'm the only woman who has ever been even upstairs and if you must know, it's none of your damn business."

Isobel was more forthright. "Don't mind her Lou Lou, she's just jealous. Martin came back into your life, you got a second chance and I'm happy for you. I think Martin has impeccable taste and it shows."

Caroline's only comment on the exchange was a sarcastic, "This must be the life."

Isobel didn't mince her words. "Oh Caroline, be glad for her. Lou Lou is not your little project."

Biting her lip anxiously, Louisa skillfully led the two downstairs. Midway, she excused herself and went back to the bedroom. She just wanted a minute to compose herself.

Tour over, everybody sat around chit chatting. Martin and Louisa held hands and often turned to smile at each other. It all seemed so natural. Finally, Martin said he would bring the dinner to the table.

Gary offered to help. He was astonished when Martin told him that he and Louisa had prepared the meal and that they liked cooking together. The presentation was elegant without being fussy and the artist in Gary warmed to the couple. He was even more pleased when Martin told him that the table settings were antique pieces he had acquired over the years and that a few of the serving dishes, simple but obviously good quality, belonged to his deceased Aunt Joan from Cornwall.

"Hmmm ... they have learned the beauty of simplicity," Gary thought.

Dinner at the table, they sat down for a delicious meal of grilled salmon, roasted chicken, a vegetable quiche, roasted potatoes, Gary's green salad and a dessert of seasonal fruits served with a honey glaze. Louisa didn't each much, she was too nervous. By the time they got to dessert, everybody was relaxed. As usual Martin didn't have much to say, and it wasn't noticeable because Caroline, Isobel and Louisa kept up a running conversation with each other. Despite the good time they were having, Caroline was on a mission and choose this perfect moment to lob a grenade at Martin.

"Martin, it's been a long time since you left the village. A lot of water has flown under the bridge. Now that James is grown and settled in London, why would you and Louisa want to get married? I thought you were a confirmed bachelor."

You could hear a pin drop, save for Isobel choking on her raspberry and Gary trying to slap her back quietly to dislodge it. Louisa held her throat nervously like she was going to have a panic attack, Tom held his head down and Caroline, eyes flashing, dared anyone to stop her.

Reaching for Louisa's hand, Martin said "A fair question. However, why wouldn't I want to marry Louisa? We love each other ..."

"I mean, now. You had your chance before and walked away," Caroline interrupted.

"Caroline!" Tom and Louisa shouted at the same time.

An angry Louisa shouted at her, "Caroline, Martin is the man I love and am going to marry. Please don't insult him in his own house."

"I can handle this," Martin whispered to her.

Martin looked at Caroline for a long minute before he responded. "Caroline, you and Louisa have been friends for a long time so I appreciate your concern. When you knew me in Portwenn, I know I did not inspire confidence as a suitable partner for her. I have caused her and our son a lot of hurt and I regret their pain and the lost years that could have been."

He paused for a sip of mineral water, squeezed Louisa's clammy shaking hand, and looking straight at Caroline continued.

"I never planned to be back in Louisa's life. It didn't seem possible, so I lived as best I could without her and James. Along the way, I was finally able to forgive and release myself from the demons that caused me to inflict all this hurt." He paused for breath.

Caroline held her head down and clutched her husband's hand.

"Fate intervened and Louisa and I met under different circumstances. We fell in love all over again, but this time we were wiser and more pragmatic. This time I decided to lead with my heart and not my head and I'm grateful I did. As Louisa's friend, I hope you will find it in your heart to be glad for her and to support her as we make a new beginning. I will take good care of her. You have my word."

Caroline, after a nudge from her husband, exhaled. She looked around the table before addressing Martin.

"Martin, I only want Louisa to be happy. She has been through so much. You have always been a man of your word and I'm going to accept it as such."

Louisa got up and gave Caroline a hug. "Trust me, Martin and I will be fine."

Isobel, now fully recovered from her coughing fit, suggested that they raise a toast to the couple. Gary refilled the glasses, wine for everybody but Martin and Louisa who had mineral water.

"You're not pregnant or something are you Louisa? Mineral water!"

"Oh shut up Isobel," Louisa laughed.

"And now the toast," Tom reminded them. "Best wishes to Louisa and Martin."

"To a beautiful, simple life," Gary said.

"To happiness," Caroline added and from Isobel who might have had too much wine, "To wonderful times in that wonderful bed of yours in your wonderful bedroom and in this wonderful home."

Even Martin smiled at Isobel's exuberant toast.

Caroline offered to help plan the wedding. Louisa was hesitant to accept. She had been through that before with her first attempt at marriage with everybody offering their unwanted opinion which had unnerved her and led to her getting cold feet. Martin came to her rescue by saying that they hadn't made any decisions about the wedding as yet.

* * *

With the guests out the door, Martin and Louisa cleaned up the kitchen. Although it was late, Martin made himself an espresso. He needed it. Louisa's reason for not having wine was that she wanted to stay clear-headed in case anything had gone wrong. Now she asked him for a glass of her favourite wine. That settled, she curled up with Martin on the sofa.

"What you said to Caroline was sweet. You know she only wants what's best for me. She doesn't know you like I do, but after what you said, I think she saw a side of you that only I have seen."

"Friends are important and I'm glad you have them. You have what it took me a long time to appreciate, friends who will butt into your life to make sure you're okay. I don't blame Caroline. I could handle her."

She chuckled. "Good to hear. Now can we just relax?"

"Better yet, we can have our private after-dinner party right here. Waiting to see you know what has been on my mind all evening."

With that Martin pulled himself and Louisa out of the sofa, led her to the study where he had already laid out blankets and floor cushions for them. He lit candles, put on music, switched off the lights, propped himself up on the pillows and drew Louisa to him. With the glow from the candles and Louisa relaxed and smiling at him as she ran her fingers through his hair, Martin felt that his life could not be any more complete. One kiss led to another until he saw what he had been waiting for all night, her pink lace bra and knickers. The last thing he remembered was Louisa telling him that he was going to give himself a heart attack.

Later, their sweaty bodies tight against each other, he said, "What a way to die. A beautiful satisfied woman in my arms. Heaven."

The next morning, Louisa woke up first. "Let's go upstairs," she urged as he rolled over in mock despair.

"Now, you want to give me a heart attack?" Upstairs, they made sweet music and fell asleep again, only waking up when the sun streaming through the window hit the bed.


	24. The talk

When Martin asked Louisa if she had decided on a date for their wedding, she said, "Not exactly." However, she liked the idea of having it in June. That would make it a special family celebration month, their anniversary and James' s birthday.

Martin had a million other questions but he didn't want to rush her. He was satisfied that by mid-year they would be legally a couple. He didn't think it was right for two old folks like themselves to "shack up." And he did want to introduce her as his wife. At their age, how long could you really be a fiancée?

Now that she was ready to begin planning their wedding, he told her to go ahead and make the major decisions. He would work with her on the details. A week after, she e-mailed him the guest list.

Martin took his time going through the list. He wanted Louisa to have whomever she pleased and appreciated that despite that, she has sought his contribution.

Roger and Maureen Fenn, acceptable. Roger had become a Cornwall celebrity after the score he wrote for _The Strange Life of Mr. String_ became a theatrical hit and won him a BAFTA.

Pauline and Al, yes. He had always liked Al and was happy to have handed over Joan's farm to him on the condition that he continue where Joan had left off with her B&B and organic farm. Aunt Ruth had taken a liking to Al when she met him at Joan's funeral and was in complete agreement with his decision. Under Al and Pauline, the business had thrived. Pauline became a certified nurse and had established a successful daycare centre for seniors in Wadebridge.

It had taken Pauline almost four years after he left the village to forgive him for leaving Louisa. She was so angry, that she had written him a letter addressed to Doc Martin, Imperial Hospital, London which by some miracle was delivered to Mrs. Green for his attention. She handed it to him, looking disdainfully at the envelope. "This looks like it's from someone from your last position in Cornwall."

To his surprise, he felt annoyed at her implication and found himself defending the village.

"Not all stupid people live in Cornwall. We have a large number in London and in this very hospital."

This was her first inkling that Mr. Ellingham was not to be crossed.

"I'm sorry sir, that's not what I meant."

His response was,"Hmmm ..."

Pauline listed all she had done for him when she worked at his surgery, the things Louisa had done to welcome him to the village and the multiple ways he had spurned her. In closing, she wished him a wretched life with the wicked witch, Dr. Edith. He still had the letter. She had only forgiven him, more like called a truce, when one of her two sons was stricken by some unexplainable malaise which he diagnosed after Al had called him in desperation.

The Bosman's and Elliott's, yes. He bore no ill-will towards Caroline and was impressed by the lengths she had gone to protect her friend, although her method was excessive. Robert, his long-time mentor and the woman he had married after his wife's death, Grace, a decided yes. Without Robert's support, and Chris's, he would never have gotten back into Imperial.

Yes to Aunt Ruth, his only known living relative besides James, and her husband, Dennis. Ruth had finally retired and written her book. It had made the bestsellers list, of all places, and was required reading for Criminology students. Old age had not slowed her down or taken the edge off her acerbic, if well-meaning tongue. She lived comfortably in her beloved London with Dennis, a retired Law professor. She had met him at one of her book-signings. Martin had called to tell her about his engagement. If she was surprised, she never showed it and for once, she kept her opinion to herself.

He was glad Louisa had included Victoria and her husband. She had warmed to Victoria the minute she met her. Chris and Jenny, of course. What would his life have been without them? Chris had saved him more times than he could count. And Jenny, he would never forget how kind she had been when Louisa was in the hospital.

Martin added a few of his colleagues to the list, including Zee and Marissa, Viola and her husband, Mrs. Green and her husband.

The list settled, and with almost ten weeks to go before the wedding, planning began in earnest. It was going to be a simple affair, and with few guests there was really not a lot do.

Victoria was a licensed minister and offered to officiate.

Zee and Marissa would do the catering as their gift, and Caroline and Gary the event coordination.

All that was left was for Louisa and Martin to turn up for their wedding.

* * *

One morning shortly after, Louisa shook Martin awake and told him that she had made her decision. Looking at her in her rumpled red pyjamas, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and worry written over her face, he tried to focus.

"Decision about what?"

"I will move to London to live with you on the condition that we purchase the holiday cottage in Truro. The airport in Newquay is nearby so we have the option of flying in for weekends, taking the train or driving down. Please say yes. I want to keep my ties to Cornwall in some way."

Remembering their last and what he hoped was their only big row, Martin caressed her face with his fingers.

"I understand. You will have your holiday cottage. We're not young anymore and I'm beginning to like the idea of getting away from our London Oasis sometimes."

Jenny's brother was developing a small complex of regular housing and holiday cottages on a huge property in Truro. Martin had been hesitant about buying into it until Chris convinced him that the cottages would be spread out on the property so that they would have their privacy.

"It would be a nice getaway that James might want to use when he has a family," Chris had suggested.

For Martin, it was enough to have James in his life. He couldn't think so far ahead to grandchildren, but he trusted Chris and said he would give the idea some thought.

Truth is, he had been dreading Louisa's decision and thought she would not have agreed to living in London. Although she had spent most of her time with him since their engagement, she still called the village home. He was prepared to move to Truro, an option they had discussed. He would then have sold their present home and bought a flat nearer to the heart of the city. They agreed that it would be practical to have their own space when they were in London.

Then, there was the matter of his surgical practice which he wanted to pursue for as long as he could. There would always be another consultation, another opinion, another paper to write, another project to oversee. He knew that one day, he would have to walk away from it, but he wasn't ready to let go completely. He could stay in surgery if he moved to Truro, but the satisfaction level didn't compare to London's. He was forever grateful to Louisa for allowing him to continue to do what he loved and where he loved doing it.

Even Chris who had retired early, had been called out of retirement many time to lend his hospital administration skills to projects all over Britain.

Despite what Martin thought he might have had to give up, he was sincere when he told Louisa, "I was prepared to live wherever you wanted. The important thing is that we're together. I could live anywhere just to wake up with you, fall asleep with you, hear your beautiful Cornish accent."

Louisa felt the same way. "I know. It was hard to decide. I too don't want to not ever be where you are."

"You have given up a lot for me, I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you."

Louisa ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. "I'm learning to compromise. What you have given me in return is all I'll ever need."

They sealed the deal with a kiss. Then Martin wanted to know when she wanted to move.

"I would like it have it done by mid-May. There's a lot to do to get me settled in before our wedding and to prepare the house for the wedding."

"Time for breakfast, then." Martin had heard enough, he knew everything would fall in place from there on.

Later that evening, he brought up a matter which had worried him. He made her what he thought was a fair offer.

"I would like us to purchase a house that we both choose and like. This way we start fresh."

"Thanks but no thanks," she protested. "I love it here. It's a nice location and it's near to James. What more could I ask for?"

"I don't want you to be emotional about this. You love it now, later you may see it as my house. Think about it before you decide. We can always get somewhere after the wedding. I want to start right. I want you to see this house as yours."

"There's nothing to discuss, Martin. When I first saw where you lived, it came as a surprise. I never expected anything like this in London. I like it here, this is our home."

Not entirely convinced, he made a counter-offer

"If that's what you want, fine. But I still want you to feel that you have a stake in our house. You'll have things that you'll bring, and I want us to look at buying a few pieces together to replace some of what's here. I know you have always wanted to make our upstairs lounge more comfortable."

"No, no. It's fine. Why spend if we don't have to? Everything is so expensive and a lot of it is expensive junk."

"Louisa, let me take care of the financial details and you select what you want. Money is not an issue. Get what you want. Why do you find it so hard to allow me these small pleasures? " he asked as he rubbed her back trying to wipe away her worry.

Louisa thought about it and confessed that she did want to make a few purchases. She was pleased that Martin was making the effort to make everything work and although he had excellent taste and didn't have any superfluous pieces, there were a few items that she wanted to replace.

A few days after, Martin took her to a shop that specialized in mid-century modern craftsman furniture, some antique, others reproductions. They decided on a new cherry dining table and chairs. Long term, she was hoping for grandchildren and wanted them to be able to bang about on it and not hurt themselves as they might on Martin's glass-topped table.

She pulled Martin aside to share her plans for the third floor sitting area which was too ascetic for her taste.

"Is it alright if I replace some of the furniture?"

Martin was only too happy to hear her express a preference. "Do whatever you want. Nothing there is of any sentimental value to me."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Hmm ... I want to make it the place where I spend time with our grandchildren."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "Good. We should have time to install the elevator. Grandchildren will be a long way off."

Encouraged she explained what she had in mind. "I would like a place where our family can put up their feet and not worry too much, comfortable seating and somewhere that makes me feel as if I'm in Cornwall. I want to introduce our grandchildren to the Celtic Sea with soft coastal colours such as blues, greens and greys; comfort them in the chair I used to rock James to sleep; and sing the Cornish lullabies I sang for him. That's how I welcomed James to his world. "

She looked at him shyly and a little apprehensively. Martin was not given to such abstract expression, but she had thought about it for some time and that's how it felt in her mind.

Right there in the shop, he leaned over and kissed her. "I understand. We will do whatever it takes to make Cornwall a part of our life here."

They choose a new sofa and side chairs in the colours she wanted. Martin pointed out a beautiful rug that would pull the area together to which she happily agreed. She also planned to add her rocking chair, a gift from Joan that she was taking with her. She also bought new bed linen and some other odds and ends. His linen were lovely, but a bit masculine.

When she had completed her selection and the sales clerk began totting up the bill, she began fidgeting to the point where Martin noticed. "Is something wrong Louisa?"

"No, no," she lied. Martin knew her well enough now to know that she was worrying about the cost and took her aside.

"We have discussed this. Our purchase has been minimal so there's no need to worry. You also have to remember that this is London, an expensive city. As long as we get value for money, we are fine."

When the bill was ready, the clerk handed it to Martin who looked at it briefly then handed her his bank card. Martin was a valued customer, and the transaction was handled discretely without Louisa having to see the total.

* * *

The night before they went shopping, Martin invited her to sit with him in his study. The only time she had been in there, for any significant period, was after the dinner party so she was a little curious. She blushed at the memory and smiled at Martin. Seeing her face, Martin rubbed her back encouragingly and asked her to sit closer to him.

He wanted to discuss his finances with her which he said was now their finances. He logged into his computer and brought up a few months of bank statements, his investment reports, his pension projections and a list of a few other assets. He told her that he was debt free, the house was paid for and that he was in the process of having her added to the title. She had already seen his will and knew he had provided well for her and James.

She was not prepared for this disclosures, but since he had been open with her, she decided to tell him about her finances. Feeling a little shy because hers did not compare well with his she began by saying, "It's not much to speak about but I still want you to know what you're getting into."

"You don't have to tell me anything." he assured her softly.

Ignoring him, she plunged ahead because she knew he would not hurt her feelings. She told him what she had from the sale of her house, her teacher's pension and savings and that she was debt free. Although she had always been frugal, Nathan's illness had consumed a big chunk out of her savings, so that wasn't much. He had said nothing while she was talking and when she finished he said, "Good, our financial discussion is behind us."

Louisa didn't agree. "There's something else we need to discuss." Since he had brought it up, she wanted to have a say about their shared expenses.

"You have provided everything here. I want to at least contribute to our household expenses."

"Nonsense." He said flat out that it was his job to provide for his family. "It's not necessary. Extras here and there will not make a difference."

She was insistent. "I don't want to be a kept woman. Very soon, I'll not have a home in the village, it's only fair that I play my part here."

He cradled her face with his hand so that she was looking at him. "Please give me a chance to make up for all the years when I longed to look after you and couldn't."

When she stood her ground, he said he would go 40/60 with groceries only. Not wanting a row, she agreed.

Then, hesitantly looking at her to gauge her reaction, he reached for her hand. She now recognized this as a sign that he was unsure about her reaction to whatever he was going to say.

"Please hear me out. I would like to make a monthly allowance available to you. You won't have to get involved; it will be deposited to your account."

She thought he was taking things too far. Why would he agree to her measly contribution to groceries then turn around and give her an allowance. "Whatever for?"

"Because you're going to be my wife and that's what husbands do. I don't want you to do without or feel uncomfortable to have to ask me for money if you want to make a big purchase or something unexpected comes."

"But we have already agreed to have a joint account."

He interrupted her. "That's different. That's for groceries."

"Martin this is very generous of you. These are modern times, there's no need. Remember, I have a tidy sum from the sale of my house."

"That," he said, "should be invested. If you agree, I'll have my investment manager get in touch with you to suggest some options."

She wanted to protest, then reminded herself that in Martin's world, an allowance for one's spouse was routine. Plus, she didn't want to throw cold water on his efforts at being a proper husband.

Martin was wealthy. The hospital paid him handsomely for his services, as well as his private consultancy, and he had made smart investment decisions over the years. Undoubtedly, their different money experiences shaped how they handled the talk. Yet is was their love for each other, mixed with maturity and willingness to compromise, that made them cross this hurdle successfully.


	25. Hard to say goodbye

Louisa was skeptical when Pauline suggested a sleepover the Friday night before the movers came. Weren't they too old for this? Pauline would not take no for an answer and neither would Caroline, Isobel and Jenny.

As Isobel put it, "Let's make this a 'one for the road' before you leave Cornwall."

She was not convinced. "The furniture will be packed and ready for pickup Saturday morning. I have to get this done. I want to leave right after the movers have left."

Isobel was insistent. "Lou Lou, when did you get so stuffy? We'll do it the old-fashioned way, camp out. You leave everything to me. See you on Friday. I'll try to get there by 6 o'clock." Then she hung up.

The plan was for Louisa to go to the village a few days before to do a final sort and pack. James volunteered to drive down with Martin on Friday morning, stay with him at a hotel the night of the sleepover, then they would all drive back to London on Saturday.

Sorting and packing was not as difficult as Louisa had feared. She had done a fair bit of downsizing when she had moved to the cottage and had been steadily getting rid of unwanted items since her engagement. She was only taking a few pieces of furniture since most had been acquired during her first marriage. That life was over. She would certainly take the desk that Martin had used as a child and which Auntie Joan had passed on to James. She had a lot of books and planned to take most of them. Many were books she had grown up with, some were academic texts and others were coffee table type tomes on Cornwall. She especially treasured the latter. Those would be her little piece of Cornwall in the upstairs lounge.

The most difficult part about the move was saying goodbye to the village. She knew she would be back since Martin had agreed to buy the cottage. Still, this was where she had lived all her life and it would hard to say goodbye. When word got out that this was her last visit to pack up and move, the few friends she had left in the village kept dropping by to help and to wish her well in her new London life.

Al, who had been her rock in the early years, gave her a digital photo album of the many moments he had captured of her life in the village.

His response to her expression when she saw the thumb drive and CD was typical Al. "You have to keep up with the time."

After an affectionate hug, she reminded him about the wedding. "Please be sure to come."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. If Dad were alive, you couldn't keep him away. I can't wait to see the Doc. You know him, he doesn't say much, but he has been very kind to us. I am glad for you, Louisa. You will be in good hands."

That made her smile. "I know, I know. Thanks Al."

She stood by the door waiving until she could no longer see his jeep. Dear Al, salt of the earth, always dependable.

Pippa came over to reminisce about their time at Portwenn Primary.

"Well Louisa, we have finally lost you to Martin."

"Come on, Pippa. You haven't lost me to anyone. You talk as if I'm never coming back. I'll be back to visit. It's not as if I'm moving to Antarctica."

Pippa took out the bottle of fine wine she had brought for the occasion and handed it to Louisa. "Here, let's drink to that."

Actually, one bottle led to another and before they knew it, they were giggling over old times and singing and dancing along with the contestants on reruns of _Dancing with the Stars _which they were watching_. _Luckily, Pippa's husband thought it prudent to come looking for her when it got late. When he saw the condition they were in, giggling and plastered, he locked up the house, sent Louisa upstairs to bed and drove his singing wife home.

Even Stewart the ranger came by with his wife. Thanks to Martin, Stewart had undergone treatment for his PTSD which had helped him to live a stable life. He had married a lovely outgoing woman who, while she respected his need for solitude, managed to increase his social interactions with some of the villagers. He didn't say much while Louisa and Polly had a chat. When they were leaving, he handed her a wedding gift for herself and Martin. It was a beautiful hand carved wooden bowl he had made especially for them. Stewart was still Portwenn's ranger, as well a much sought after wood carver of modern pieces. He had taken up carving as a form of therapy and discovered that carving was his hidden talent. Now his pieces were in homes, shops and galleries all over Great Britain. Of course, he neither wanted to or could keep up with demand. This had the unintended effect of making his work much more valuable.

"Please give Martin my regards and best wishes for a happy married life. You and Martin were meant for each other, Louisa. He's the best doctor that Portwenn has ever had and I'll always be indebted to him. In his own gruff and obstinate way, he got me to where I am now – happy and contented."

"Oh, Stewart, Martin couldn't have done anything unless you agreed to it. You two were alike in many ways. No wonder you got on with each other."

"Whatever, you say Louisa. Just don't forget to give him my regards."

* * *

After a restless night, early Friday morning, just as the sun was about to come up, Louisa left for her last walk through the village, a walk she could have done blindfolded. She walked briskly past what was once Martin's surgery, Bert's restaurant, her cottage, Mr. Routledge's cottage where she had lived during her pregnancy, the chemist shop once presided over by Mrs. Tishell, Joy Cronk's fish and chips, all now in different hands and pursuits. She walked past the station where PC Joe Penhale had served with distinction, was the recipient of three medals for bravery, and had retired at the rank of Inspector. She hesitated some, then squaring her shoulder, she marched across the village to Portwenn Primary where she has ended her teaching career as headmistress. She hadn't been inside the school grounds for many years, not since ... Determined to not let her emotions overwhelm her, she pushed the gate open and sat on the wall where she and Martin had met for the last time before he left the village. As she remembered him handing her the envelope with the spreadsheet and cheques for James's care, she began crying. That, mixed with memories of a lifetime in the village, came flooding back and she sobbed her heart out until she saw a figure of someone walking slowly towards her.

Looking up in the half light, she saw Mr. Grey, the caretaker who had taken over when Mr. Coley died.

"What is it Louisa? Is something wrong?" the old man asked. He had come in early as usual to finish cleaning up before school began and has seen her sitting alone. He had heard the rumour that she was leaving to get married, so he couldn't understand why she was crying.

"It's alright Mr. Grey. I'm moving to London tomorrow. I was just saying goodbye to the village and got emotional."

"That's understandable Louisa, this has been your home all your life. This is not goodbye. Memories will always keep you here, but it's time to move on. I hear you're getting married to the Doc, it's all over the village. He's a good man. You will be in good hands. Why don't I make you a nice cup of tea before you leave?"

"Thanks, Mr. Grey. It's getting late and I want to do a little more walking around before it gets light and the village wakes up."

"Then, it's until we see you again. Not goodbye," Mr. Grey said patting her back. He followed her to the gate and closed it behind her.

"Thanks. I feel better," she said smiling at him.

Everybody says I'll be in good hands, she thinks. She couldn't understand this sudden love for Martin. From Al and Stewart, yes. But Pippa? They were never fans of each other. When James was born, she had come to the hospital to see her, barely unable to hide her I told you so look. Mr. Grey would have known Martin but only as a patient. And that would not have been a lovely experience. Martin was a good doctor, but his bedside manners were notoriously terrible.

She walked down to the Platt, then to the beach where a few fishermen shouted out to her, "Morning, Louisa." She stopped to smell the sand and sea and couldn't resist taking off her shoes and wading into the water. It felt cold as it always did this early in the morning. She barely suppressed a giggle when a picture of Martin, water dripping from his suit, wading out of the water, himself and Joe dragging the barmy headmaster who had taken her job while she was in London. She couldn't imagine what would have been her fate if Martin hadn't come to her rescue, as he always did, that day.

Then she headed out to the cliff path. Below her, the bottle green sea was deceptively calm. Looking in another direction, she saw Joan's farm which had been her refuge from prying eyes and wagging tongues when she brought James home from the hospital.

Dear Joan. Who would tend the flowers she had planted at her grave site when she was gone? She made a mental note to add this to her to-do list. Perhaps she could make arrangements with the vicar for him to have someone see to it for a small sum.

She watched two early joggers coming towards her and remembered that it was near this stretch of the path that she had first set eyes on Nathan. They had just nodded at each other but she remembered wondering why would a tourist think to jog here? This was what she thought he was, not knowing that like her, he was born and bred in Cornwall. Seeing some other joggers behind this first set, she knew it was time to return to the cottage.

It was still early when she got back to her cottage. She had a cup of tea and went back to sleep until the phone woke her up. It was Martin.

"Hello sleepyhead. Sounds as if you're just getting up."

"Hello Martin. No, I have been up since it was barely daylight saying goodbye. I walked all over the village and did a short turn on the cliff path. Where are you?"

"We are a little outside of London. We will be there in time for a late lunch, please try not to work too hard, just relax for now."

After the call, Luisa fixed breakfast and ate at the kitchen counter from where she could see the sea. Breakfast over, she looked around and realized there was not much else to do. She had left out a few items for the sleepover. Everything else was either packed, sold, given away or trashed. Pauline and Jenny were bringing sleeping bags and Cornwall delicacies for dinner. Caroline was in charge of drinks and Isobel, dessert.

Martin had made lunch reservation at the Tea Room, the same restaurant where he had taken her a year ago. When she drove into the car park, Martin and James walked towards her when they saw her coming and each held her hand.

"My two men," was all she said when she saw them. She had missed Martin's reassuring presence and felt better after he took her hand and led her inside to the restaurant. Lunch was quiet. James hadn't grown up at a silent table so he chatted away and Martin and Louisa let him be. Listening to him, it seemed to Louisa that he was now a proper Londoner. Even his accent had changed. She wondered if hers would change in time and vowed to keep it and her Cornish ways intact. To be fair, she knew James would never forget the village and his friends there. She was pleased that when he heard about the cottage he had referred to it as "a welcome refuge." She didn't have much of an appetite and picked at her plate. She knew Martin was watching her. Thankfully, he said nothing.

With time to spare before the sleepover, Martin and Louisa went to see Jenny. James stayed back at the hotel where she had left her car. He would do the handover to its new owner, a young teacher from Truro. When it was time to return to the village, Luisa opted to take a taxi instead of having them drive her back.

* * *

Pauline was the first to arrive. Time had not changed her presentation of self to the world. When she was out of her nursing uniform, she still liked her flamboyant combination of colour and styles. Tonight was no different. She had on a flaming red coat under which she had an orange and red pyjamas to match her bottle-red hair.

Seeing that she had Louisa to herself, she seized the opportunity to quiz her.

"Is the Doc still a grump?

"When he was here, you know he had a lot to be grumpy about. The villagers gave him a hard time. No, he's no longer a grump, although he can be at times. With me, he's a sweetheart."

Pauline's face said it all. She wouldn't have put the Doc and sweetheart in the same sentence. She hoped Louisa knew what she was getting herself into. Her marriage, her funeral.

"You do know that after he left you up the duff, I wrote him a letter giving him a piece of my mind."

This was a surprise to Louisa. "No I didn't. Why?"

"I didn't like how he treated you. I hope you know what you're doing this time."

Louisa was touched. "Oh, Pauline. This time around we both know what we're doing."

Her next question had Louisa in stitches. "Do you really believe he's going to turn up for the wedding? He bailed out once before, he could do it again."

"Pauline, how do you come up with these questions? Bailing out would be hard, we're living together. You may not believe it, and you'll see when you meet him at the wedding, but he's a changed man."

"How changed?" Pauline inquired sharply.

"As I said, he's no longer a grump. He smiles, laughs, makes jokes, teases, and we like dancing at home. Martin is a great dancer." Louisa couldn't resist shocking Pauline.

"The doc dancing? Are you sure we're talking about Martin Ellingham?"

"Yes we are." It was Caroline who had come in unnoticed and heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Prepare yourself for a new Martin Ellingham. When I met him at the dinner, he couldn't keep his hands off Louisa."

"Stop it Caroline. Don't try to give Pauline a heart attack, I want her at my wedding," Louisa protested with a laugh.

Pauline had one last question. "Now that he's even more of a famous surgeon than when he was here, aren't you afraid that some woman will snatch him away from you? That Edith woman tried. He's still a good catch - rich, gifted, and from the pictures I have seen of him, he has aged well. Still looks good in those suits of his. You know men get better with age. They look distinguished"

Caroline answered for Louisa who was doubled up with laughter. "Hell no. He only has eyes for our Louisa. He waits hands and foot on her and treats her like a princess. Don't you see the posh outfit she has on? Martin insists on the best for her. You know he has always been a one-woman man."

"I buy my own clothes, Caroline," Louisa protested. "He give gives me a few gifts here and there..."

Jenny who had arrived in time to hear the conversation stopped her. "Louisa, he gives you lots of gifts. He spoils you and I think it's nice. Anyhow, let's give Louisa a break. Come on, we're here to celebrate."

Despite this interruption, Pauline still wanted to let her views be known about the Doc. "I have to be at the wedding. It's not that I don't believe what you're all telling me, but he's the Doc. Can't change all that much."

To add to Pauline's confusion, Jenny told them the story about how Martin had proposed to Louisa.

Isobel could not stop laughing. "In the loo? On his knees? The fastidious Mr. Martin Ellingham?"

Pauline could not contain herself. "I knew it. He has gone bodmin, then. You had better be careful with him Louisa. All that travelling he has done. Who knows what strange disease he might have contracted."

Jenny stepped in. "Pauline, you're a nurse, stop talking rubbish. Martin just loves Louisa and will do anything for her. Plus Chris had a hand in the proposal. He threatened him."

Louisa enjoyed herself immensely. She was glad she had her friends around her to wipe away the sadness. They laughed with and at each other, teased, shared the latest gossip and even shed tears towards the end. They sang pop songs, moved on to bawdy fishermen songs, told jokes, grazed on Cornish delicacies, drank all through the night and danced their legs off. By the time they had exhausted themselves and rolled into their sleeping bags, it was well after midnight.

James suggested that Martin drive over on Saturday to pick up Louisa. He thought she might need to be alone with him on her final day in the village. When Martin arrived at about 10 am, her friends had left, the movers had come and gone and she was sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee in which she had put her secret potion to stave off the effects of a hangover. Guessing how the sleepover had gone, and judging from the trash bags and bottles piled up outside, he proceeded carefully. He thought she looked happy but dreadful from her late night carousing. He didn't say so though. Instead, he lifted her from her chair and folded her in his arms.

"We'll be back, Louisa." She just let out a shaky sigh.

Louisa was quiet on the drive back. Although she had stayed with Martin on and off, leaving Cornwall and moving in full-time with him was still a big step. There could be no turning back now. When they reached a crest in the road from which she could see the village spread out behind her, she looked back with tears streaming down her face. Neither James nor Martin said anything. They thought it best for her to say goodbye privately. When they stopped for lunch at pub midway home, Martin helped her out of the car and took her aside.

He did his best to console her. "Everything will be fine, we will be fine. We will come down for a few days as often as you need to." She said nothing, just looked at him and laid her head on his chest.

* * *

Lunch is quiet, and I like it that way. Louisa plays around with her salad until she pushes it away. James and I eat in silence, though I cannot help noticing that he is preoccupied about something. He is never short on words, if even to bounce off some medical matter on me. I keep quiet, knowing they are mourning in their own way.

After I settle the bill and we are about to get up from the table, James says, "Wait a minute" and hands me an envelope.

"Humph... What is this? Why now? We drove down together, been here since yesterday, how important is this?"

"Dad, please open it"

I am a little irritated and it shows. "We need to make up time if we are to get home before dark. Your mother has had a long day. "

With that, I shove it in my pocket. It can wait. Right now Louisa is the priority. I don't know how much longer she can hold out without breaking down in tears. I prefer to comfort her in the privacy of our home, without our son having to experience her pain. I never saw my mother cry. If she had, it wouldn't have been over me. But I'm sure it would have saddened me. You never expect your parents to be vulnerable.

"It's my pre-wedding gift. Please open it now," he asks me quietly.

I open it reluctantly and look up at him speechless, then hand it to Louisa. It is a a copy of his birth certificate with his name, _James Henry Martin Tiggle Ellingham_. I know his birth certificate by heart. I had memorized it when Louisa sent me a copy shortly after she had registered his birth. When I recover after a stunned second, I realize that he has added my name to his.

Louisa gasps, "James," and falls silent.

She looks at me and sensing my shock, she leans over and kiss me. I think ruefully of all the time James has been in London, going by the name Tiggle and how he had been stubborn about not letting anybody know that I am his biological father, lest they think he's getting a pass because of me. Of course, he no longer feels that way about me. I look up in a daze at him. It strikes me slowly at last, he is an Ellingham for all the world to know. I am still in shock. I don't understand what made him do this. He never discussed it with me, and I don't think he did with his mother. She would have told me. I pull myself together. Now is not the time for questions.

I touch his shoulder to let him know I appreciate his gift. "Thanks James."

Looking visibly relieved that one of us has recovered from the shock of what he has done, he says, 'You're very welcome. Now that you and Mum are getting married, this is the correct thing to do."

Louisa is just as bewildered as I am. Being who she was, she doesn't hold back.

"Can you do this?" she asks.

"I just did."

"What about your school certificates, passport and other documents?

"Mr. Beadle took care of everything. He has a copy of all my document with Dad's papers. Which ones to change was not an issue."

"Isn't your name rather long?

"It's all relative Mum, all relative."

"But it isn't practical to have such a long name. How is it going to hold on forms...?"

James stops her from reeling off a list of situations that might not be the problem she thinks they are. "The name on my birth certificate is my legal name. I will be using James Henry Ellingham in my everyday life."

"And you gave this a lot of thought?"

"A lot of thought. It might not have been the right thing for others in my situation, but it is right for me."

"What would Nathan think about this?"

These last few days have been emotional for Louisa and it shows from her last question. I touch her hand to signal that James is grown and now is not the time to seek answers for his magnanimous gesture. She understands and apologizes to him.

"James, please don't mind me. You just caught me off guard. I appreciate what you have done, and I'm sure Martin does."

Later when we're home, and over a cup of tea, James tells us what had led him to this decision.

"I wanted to use your name after you and Mum got engaged. It just seemed proper. While we were in the village, my old name served us well. It spared Mum a lot of explaining. Here in London, and especially if I ever have children, I don't want people asking questions and one of us have to be constantly explaining things. Plus, it would get more complicated as we went along. It wasn't the easiest of decisions. I love Nathan, I love you both, but as I said, it was the right decision for me."

I was curious to know if he had thought about how Imperial would react to his name change.

"Mr. Beadle handled the paperwork, including clearing it first with Imperial. They are over the moon. My chief could not stop smiling when I told him and kept mumbling, 'two Ellinghams on staff'. I'm glad you hadn't heard about it. I swore your friends to secrecy, especially Mrs. Green."

I promised myself to have a word with his chief, who I have known since he came on staff. He had been in some of my tutorials and was a first rate cardiologist.

Later after James left, I turn my full attention to Louisa who is quiet beside me, lying with her head on my chest.

"Feeling a little better?" I ask.

She lifts her head, nuzzles my neck and says, "I have something to confess."

I groan. "A confession about what? Have you changed your mind about taking my name?"

Louisa was conflicted about assuming my name after we got married. She had argued that everybody knew her by that name, it was James's name, it was the name on her professional certifications. She had finally agreed to take my name when I told her that it was her choice. It seemed a small thing to argue over since we had come this far in our relationship. I knew, however, that there would be the inevitable questions when I introduced her as my wife. Is she changing her mind, I wonder.

"No, not that. It's about James taking your name. I have always felt guilty about changing his name from mine to Nathan's"

I interrupted. "And if you recall, when you asked, I had told you, over the phone and in writing, that I had no objection to your giving him my name because he was my son." I remember that conversation with pain. I didn't blame her for rejecting my offer. Even to my ears I had sounded rude and abrupt. She wasn't to know that I had forced myself not to cry when she had called. I didn't want her to know how guilty and wretched I was feeling.

Thankfully, Louisa had forgiven me. "I wanted to spare him the teasing and unkind remarks from his classmates. This was something I had seen so often in school with children in those situation. I never wanted that for James."

"I know Louisa, I know. It's late, you're tired, let's get some sleep. You're home now."

She runs her fingers softly through my hair, a gesture she knows I like. "This is my home now. It's just that saying goodbye is hard. But, the two persons I love most are with me here. This will be the family home I always dreamed of sharing with you."

Long after Louisa falls asleep, I lay in bed thinking about the path I had traversed to finally make a home with her. I had shed so much of the old miserable me, that before Louisa came back into my life I used to wonder if it had been worth it. There was no other woman I wanted and she was out of reach. I have no regrets now. I have been given a priceless second chance with Louisa and James.


	26. Louisa

_**Louisa ... the hours leading up to her wedding**._

"Come on," she mutters, struggling to prevent her carryon and handbag from overturning. "I'll have to remind James to get this lock fixed. Damn and blast. No swearing, Luisa" she admonishes herself.

"Not on the day before your wedding. Don't want to jinx it."

"There you go, and about time. What the hell took you so long?" she mumbles to herself as the key finally goes in straight and she lets herself into James's flat for her self-imposed exile from home.

She also wants to escape the calls, those from Caroline and Gary, for one. Let Martin deal with whatever comes up, she trusts him. All she wants to do is turn up with James and walk down the aisle to meet her lover. Well, that's a switch she thinks, Martin her lover! I can't recall thinking of him as a lover, although he is. She remembers how tight he held her this morning, unwilling to let her go, yet resolved to respect her wish.

An hour or so later, with a cup of chamomile tea and a few chocolate digestive biscuits to calm her nerves set out on the coffee table, her "me" time begins. She had long outgrown her emotional eating, but just for today, she indulges herself. Her phone is off and tucked away in her handbag. She sinks into the sofa with her feet stretched out, ready to deal with the business at hand. She lays out her tools on a metal tray, also on the coffee table. There are matches, a small covered square tin, sheets of the best cream parchment writing paper and matching envelope she could find at the card shop she had stopped at on her way to James's, a lovely antique pen borrowed from Martin and a cream lavender-scented pillar candle. She lights the candle. That should calm me some more, she hopes.

She reviews what she wants to accomplish.

First, she will select the personal qualities which will serve her well in her new life. She knows that being clear about her role in the marriage is her best chances for its success. She and Martin have gone through too much to get to each other. But first, she has to decide which negative qualities she must discard.

Then, she wants to make her peace with her old life. She knows too well that starting fresh means acknowledging those who have helped her to get where she is.

She looks at the clock on the mantle. It's 10 am, almost 24 hours before her new, legally sanctioned life officially begins.

"Best get to it then," she resolves, and bites off a piece of biscuit. She checks her notes, picks up her pen and begins writing in her clear, bold penmanship. She pauses often to check her list, arranged in no particular order, making sure nothing is left out. It is concise and tailored specifically to who she is. When finished, she holds it up for scrutiny.

_The Terrible 10 _

_Jealousy_

_Pride _

_Intransigence_

_Insensitivity _

_Complacency_

_Greed _

_Arrogance _

_Disloyalty _

_Loose lips _

_Insecurity_

Looking at the list she thinks, "I could go on and on, but I'm going to keep it real. Ten is enough."

She folds the sheet of paper into accordion pleats to give it a fancy touch, uncurls herself from the sofa, takes the match and tin from the coffee table and walks into the kitchen.

"This is it," she tells herself softly, "burial by cremation."

She carefully fits the paper in the tin, touches the match to it and sets the tin in the sink. She respectfully watches the edge of the paper curl as the flames reaches it, then run unobstructed around the edges until it seeps all through, leaving gossamer-thin remains of charred paper that crumbles to the touch. Making sure that the fire is out, she fills the tin with water, closes it, then bins it. She places what's left of the box of matches on the kitchen counter.

Everything is carefully choreographed and for her, this is the beauty of the exercise. She wants to give the act the respect it deserves by being thorough and attentive to details.

Sinking back into the sofa, she ponders her symbolic act of cleansing by fire. She knows that from time to time those vices may rear their head and she commits herself to not allowing them to take root. As she watches the flames from the candle, she yearns for company, makes to retrieve her phone, then stops herself.

"No temptations," she chides. "I made a promise to myself to do this alone and I will. Music will have to do for now."

Soon, she's singing along with Cyndi Lauper's _Girls Just Want To Have Fun _playing on her ipad.

I come home in the morning light  
My mother says when you gonna live your life right  
Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones  
And girls they want to have fun  
Oh girls just want to have fun

The phone rings in the middle of the night  
My father yells what you gonna do with your life  
Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one  
But girls they want to have fun  
Oh girls just want to have...

Almost out of breath, she follows with Lady Gaga's _I'm on the Edge_.

There ain't no reason you and me should be alone tonight  
Yeah baby, tonight, yeah baby  
I got a reason that you  
Who should take me home tonight ...

I'm on the edge of glory  
And I'm hanging on a moment of truth  
Out on the edge of glory  
And I'm hanging on a moment with you...

The last note dies and she looks at the clock.

"Ooops, it's almost 11. 'Tempus is fuguting'." Still humming, she settles back into the sofa and writes her final list. Her thoughts flow uninterrupted. She has been mulling about this list for some time and is grateful for what she has learned about herself from her sessions with Dr. Milligan.

_10 Keepers_

_Unconditional love_

_Honesty_

_Compassion _

_Joy _

_Kindness_

_Curiosity _

_Generosity_

_Loyalty _

_Dependability _

_Respect_

The list completed, she takes a deep breath and reviews the _10 Keepers_. Of the ten, she feels closest to unconditional love. You love your child unconditionally, you can't help it. With Martin, I have gone through the fire yet I have never stopped loving him, warts and all. That must be unconditional love, she reasons.

She allows herself the luxury of dreaming what it will be like for her and Martin to say their vow to each other. They had written it together, well, more her. Martin had said he didn't need a vow to pledge his love to her. If she wanted one, he would gladly say it to her. Then he had totally distracted her by inviting her to sit beside him. The memory makes her smile.

She walks to the fridge and takes out the bag with the lunch he had packed for her.

"Always looking out for me. He can be fussy, but I'm enjoying it." Underneath it all, she knows that's Martin's way of showing his love.

"Nothing here to spoil my appetite for later," she notes, although she's curious about a small bag, placed underneath the sandwich. "I'll eat first then see what surprise Martin has for me."

And with that, she eats the cheese sandwich, boring and healthy as it is. There's a bottle of orange juice. Finally, as she opens the mystery package her eyes widen in surprise. There are a couple of chocolate digestive biscuits.

"Oh my God, this is bribe. He wants me to come home." She smiles at the thought. "Hope our life will always be full of surprises."

She opens the small sheet of paper on which the biscuits sit. There, in Martin's distinctive handwriting is a note. _L, I miss you. I want you to be healthy, but just for today, enjoy your carbs. M._

She looks over at the coffee table, her digestive biscuits are all gone. She looks again at Martin's, "Such a shame to let them go to waste," and takes a bite. It taste like honey, nectar and milk.

When she returns to her most important task for the day, the letter to two beloved people in her life, words come as easily as tears. Memories threaten to slow her down but she pushes on, never stopping until she's done.

_Dear Nathan_

_Thank you for being beside me as we tried to bring up James to be the best person he could be. You were the best father he could ever have asked for. He wouldn't be the kind and loving son he is, if you were not there teaching him how to be a man and letting go when it was time to send him into Martin's care._

_I love you because you saw beyond my inadequacies and fears. You accepted me as I was, and helped me grow to be the woman I am today. I am grateful for the happy years we had. I love you for the comfort you gave me, for being warm, generous, caring, slow to anger, forgiving and most of all, for your friendship.__ I say love in the present tense because although you're no longer physically on this plane, y__ou are always here in a special place in my heart. _

_We have had good and bad times. The worst time was when you became ill and I said angry words. Thank you for forgiving me. It took me some time to understand that you wanted to shield me from your pain. I'm glad you finally accepted that your pain was my pain. _

_Your love gave me the courage to hold you in my arms and watch you leave this plane fearlessly. To the end, you never wavered in your concern for my welfare. You need not have worried, your love made me strong to embark on another of life's journeys._

_As I prepare to marry Martin tomorrow, I thank you for releasing me, on your deathbed, to pursue a life with him._

_Please know that we're forever family. James will always have two dads and I'll always have two husbands. _

_Without your love, I would not have been ready to face life on my own. Without your love and nurturing, I would not have been ready to be Martin's wife._

_I love you, Nathan_

_Always … Louisa._

_Dear Joan_

_I know you're with me as I prepare to become Martin's wife tomorrow. You most of all knew our history and how much we struggled to be parents to our son despite all that had gone wrong in our relationship. You knew Martin more than I did, so you understood how the horrors of his childhood made him run away from being a father and a partner._

_That is all behind us now. Tomorrow, James will walk with me and hand me over to Martin to make our vows. As we stand before our friends declaring our love to each other and asking them to bear witness, I know you will be smiling your approval. _

_Our love has conquered time, circumstances and fear. We have been given another chance to make things right_

_You'll be pleased to know that today, I wrote Nathan thanking him for loving me and James. I marvel that the Louisa whose insecurities you knew well, has space in her heart to have loved and known love with Nathan and will spend the rest of her life loving Martin all over again._

_You were the mother neither Martin nor I had. You had enough love in your heart to help a frightened little girl grow up to be a mum and a wife. You did the same for Martin, as you knew he would one day grow up to be the father and husband he was destined to be. _

_Joan, you were all I could ever have asked for – mother, friend, comfort, Granma for James and a shoulder that never grew weary of me._

_I love you so much. I know you will be with me always and will be looking on tomorrow as Martin and I begin our new life together as man and wife._

_Always, your daughter Louisa_

She places the list and her two letters in an envelope and tucks them away in her carryon. Their final resting place will be her _Treasure Chest_. She promise herself to read them on each wedding anniversary to remind her of her journey.

Louisa signals that she's ready to commune with the world by turning on her phone then promptly falls asleep, exhausted from the rituals of the day.

The phone wakes her up. It's Caroline. "Don't be late. We want to get you home early so you can get your beauty rest."

There she goes again, so bossy. "Yes, Caroline, I'll be early." Hope she's not going to be like this tomorrow.

* * *

Our night out at _The Chantilly Lace_, a new hot, happening restaurant in the heart of London, promises to be good. The Friday crowd is trickling in as we wait to be seated. Caroline points me out and casually mentions to the hostess, who introduces herself as Beth, that I was getting married tomorrow. Beth, a young slip of a girl, looks at me and smiles.

"Come with me. Because your reservation is for 5 pm, I can fit you all in a private room. It's small but cozy. Champagne is on the house. Please tell Dave, who will be your waiter, when you're ready."

She turns to me and shyly whispers, "I hope you will be happy. My mum just remarried and she's so happy. Best wishes." She leans down and kisses me on my cheek then almost runs out of the room. We're all touched.

We order a tad indulgent diner and dive into it quickly. To our delight, it lives up the restaurant's reputation. Martin would have thrown a fit, had he had seen the empty calories we consumed, not to mention the wine.

Isobel appointed herself host, or whatever it is you call the person who takes the lead at these events. "Louisa, is there anything you want to say to open the evening. Anything from us?"

I'm a little nervous asking, but I ask nevertheless. "I would like you to share your words of wisdom for a happy marriage."

"If you ask me ..., Jenny started.

"I didn't ask you, Jenny. " I stop her noticing that she has already had a glass of wine, plus a martini while we were waiting at the bar for our room. "Unless you can keep it G-Rated. What will our young waiter think?"

"I know what I was thinking when he came in all muscular and looking at us as if we're old biddies. I would just need one evening ..." Jenny blurts out.

"Stop, don't go there, Chris would kill you," Caroline says almost choking on her wine.

"Oh, he's a sweetheart. He knows I'm all talk. Speaking of talk, that's not a word I associate with Martin, and I have known him a very long time. Does he talk to you in bed? I mean when ... ahem.." she asks..

Caroline comes to my rescue. "That's it. I'm going to order a cup of coffee for you. Chris will really kill you if you go home any worse than you are now. Louisa is not going to answer. Look at her blushing."

Isobel chirps in. "He's not a talker for sure, but he certainly knows his way around the female anatomy."

"He's a doctor, for God's sake. He delivered your baby," Caroline hisses.

I'm doubled up in laughter, but I have to put a stop to the downward slide of the conversation. I really want some advice from my friends, especially Jenny and Caroline who have been married forever. I have been drinking just like them, but I wasn't so inebriated that I fell for their curiosity. It was harmless fun, however Martin is a very private person and I want to preserve what happens between us behind closed doors.

Everything goes nicely after that. Everyone wanted to share a Louisa story. Caroline brings up my time with Danny. I can't believe my ears.

"Danny? Which Danny? I have not heard from him since he went back to London and that was before James was born."

"Oh, forget about that pretentious loser," Isobel says. "What about the lawyer you dated before you met Nathan."

Again I can't believe my ears. "What do you mean by dated? I went out with the man once. When he asked me for a second date, I told him about James and I never heard from him again."

"Poor Lou Lou,? Isobel moans.

"Well, you're the one who brought up that sorry story." Jenny says sarcastically.

"Okay Mrs. Jenny Parsons, what's your Louisa story?" Isobel shoots back.

Jenny proceeds to tell them her version of a story about Martin and myself. "Did you know that when Martin started coming to Truro she refused to stay at the hotel with him. Said it wasn't proper."

"Are you serious?" Caroline asks looking at me as if I had grown horns.

I got defensive. "That's not exactly how it went. I wanted to, but Martin took too long to pluck up the courage to ask me. By the time he did, I invented that excuse. A girl has to have some pride."

As usual Isobel has the last word. "That's our Lou Lou. You have the man eating out of your hands and what do you do? Get on your high horse."

We go back and forth with the ribbing, until Jenny asks me what were my plans for my new life in London.

"You're a first rate educator. Have you thought about returning to teaching or consulting?" Caroline asked. "Martin is still working. What would you do while he's away?"

"I have a few ideas. The National Board of Education offered me a full-time consulting position. I turned it down because it will be too confining. Martin and I will discuss this after things settle down."

Jenny who has not worked formally in years was sympathetic. "Take your time Louisa. You may find being married to Martin a lot more demanding than expected. London is a fast city and it's easy to get swept up in the frenetic pace."

I agreed with her to a point. "As long as being Martin's wife is not going to entail going to stuffy tea parties and sitting around with bored, spoilt women."

I hadn't told them about Martin's _Science Is Cool_ project. I felt I could be of use there and hoped that in time, a part-time volunteer opportunity would open. If Martin was surprised that I still had subscriptions to two of the leading Educational journals, he never said anything to me.

At 6:30, Dave wants to know if we are ready for our check. Of course we're not.

After he leaves the room, Caroline opens a bag she had sitting under the table, takes out a beautifully wrapped gift box and hands it to me. "This is our way of helping you to keep the spice in your marriage."

I can feel my face getting red as I wonder what she means by that and hope it's not what I'm thinking. But of course it is.

I unwrap the box carefully. Inside is an array of gorgeous silk underwear wrapped in tissue paper from an exclusive High Street boutique.

Isobel saw my face and explained, "We kept it fancy to match your fancy bedroom. It's eight sets, one extra for the week."

All I could say was thanks. I knew Martin would love seeing me in them.

I know they must have put a lot of thought into this gift to make it personal and something I would use and enjoy. I will myself not to cry, but they saw the tears welling up and ordered another bottle of wine.

"This is no time for tears, Lou Lou," Isobel warns me.

Caroline proposes a toast and that's when they give me their words of wisdom. It was worth the wait.

Caroline's secret to a happy marriage is to forgive quickly. "I'm still working on it. Tom has it down pat and it has saved our sanity and kept our marriage intact."

Jenny's wisdom was hard won. "After my illness, Chris and I realized that the most valuable thing we had, besides our health, was each other. We have never forgotten that experience. We tell each other _I love you_ every morning and every night, no matter where we are."

Isobel has the last word. "When you get lucky, treasure that person. Laugh hard, forgive easily and remember to have fun. Life is much too short to waste."

Before we left, I wrote a thank-you note to Beth and included a generous tip. I had noticed her Cornish accent and gave her my telephone number.

I called Martin when I got home, It felt good hearing his voice. I hold out for as long as I can, until I gives up and tell him that I had more wine than I should and had to go to bed. He assured me that he would be there for our wedding and urged me to to get some sleep, drink water, blah, blah, blah.

* * *

I open my eyes and for a minute, I can't remember where I am when I don't feel Martin's warm, familiar body beside me. I yawn and stretch, then look around. I have slept in this room many times. The robe I used the last time I was here is at the foot of the bed where I place it last night. I wonder what my two men are doing, then drift off to sleep again. It's only 5:15 am.

By 6:30, I'm awake again. I look at my dress hanging on a lovely padded hanger and hanging from a hook next to the closet. It's so beautiful, I hope Martin will like it. Jenny will stop by on her way to the wedding to give me whatever help I might need. For the next hour or so, I lay in bed propped up on pillows, waging a battle with myself about yesterday's decision to show James my letter to Nathan. Joan's is not an issue.

In the cold light of my wedding day, I'm having second thoughts. On the one hand, Nathan's letter is my private, soul-baring moment? However, to be fair, I had told Nathan about us always being a family. That seals it. I will show it to James.

When James arrives at about 9:45 am, I look anxiously at him before hugging him. "I have missed you and your dad? Did you have a good father son bonding?"

"I thought it was supposed to be a stag night," he teases.

"Oh, just have a seat, I have something to show you."

James reads Nathan's letter then looks up at me. "This is good. You have thought of everything, but it wasn't necessary. Dad never wanted you to be alone. He would have understood your getting married. "

Seeing his bluey grey eyes looking lovingly at me in the way Martin's did, I explain. " I wanted to do what is right. Nathan is your dad and was my husband for a long time."

"Mum, I will always love Dad, you don't have to worry about that. I love my two dads, and that's just the way it is. Don't push it though, the only mum I want is you."

That was enough for me. "Saying goodbye was the right thing to do. As of yesterday, that part of my life is closed, but your Dad will always have a special place in it. He will always be your dad. Always.'"

James was not overly sentimental, not even close. However, he had been thinking about Nathan a lot lately. While he wasn't conflicted about Martin and Louisa being together, he had wondered what his mum's life would have been had Nathan been alive and what Martin's life would have been had she not gotten back with him. He had seen Martin going on dates a few times, met some of the women, but none had seemed right for him. How could Martin and his mum being together seem so right and Nathan and his mum together seem so right, all at the same time, he wondered.

When Jenny arrives, there's nothing to do besides tell Louisa that she looks gorgeous. "Please don't get me started," she says and starts crying.

I shake my head, this is not how I want to start my special day. "Jenny we're not even at the wedding. Save your tears for later."

"It's just that you look so happy, so beautiful."

After Jenny leaves James and I sit quietly listening to music. I especially like Bruce Springsteen's _If I Should Fall Behind_.

_We said we'd walk together baby come what may  
That come the twilight should we lose our way  
If as we're walking a hand should slip free  
I'll wait for you  
And should I fall behind  
Wait for me_

We swore we'd travel darlin' side by side  
We'd help each other stay in stride  
But each lover's steps fall so differently  
But I'll wait for you

_And if I should fall behind  
Wait for me_

When the song is over, I look at the clock on the mantle and put on my veil. "Time to go, James."

We drive in silence. James helps me out of the car and opens the door for me.

Caroline is waiting for us. Tears well up in her eyes when she sees me. "You look beautiful and happy."

Why is everybody crying? Looks like we're all gearing up for a crying fest.

James, who is looking like a young version of Martin, whispers, "You're beautiful," takes my arm and leads me to the door that opens into the courtyard. I hear the faint strains of John Lennon's _Imagine,_ and on cue, James pushes the door open and looks at me.

"Are you ready?" I nod my head.

Martin is smiling. His face registers joy, nervousness and adoration all in one. I bite my lips to contain my tears and begin walking towards him.


	27. Martin

_**Martin ... the hours leading up to his wedding.** _

My only stipulation to Caroline and Gary was to keep the wedding simple.

Privately, I told them, "This is Louisa's day. Everything must be perfect. Spare no expenses to do that."

Over lunch with Victoria on Friday, the day before the wedding, we go over the details of the ceremony since she will be officiating.

"I'm happy for you Martin. You and Louisa are ready for each other."

"I have you to thank for that. Without your help, I would never have made it this far."

"You stayed on the path Martin. It was all your doing."

I look at my friend and realize that since she has been back in my life, I have learned to trust and accept my vulnerabilities. Like Chris, she has put up with me, prodded and poked and let go when it was time for me to venture out on my own.

Looking at my notes which Louisa and I had prepared, I tell her, "There's nothing really to discuss. It will be simple. James will give Louisa away and Chris will be my best man."

"So, no big bash for you? You do know that your Imperial colleagues are angling for an invitation," she teases.

"You know me better Victoria. We want to be able to talk with our guests as most of them had a hand in us getting back together. After, Louisa and I will spend a quiet evening at home."

Victoria assures him that she's only teasing. Then she gets serious. "Louisa is lovely. I can see why you waited for her."

"I didn't plan to. She was always out of reach, but there was nobody else I wanted."

Victoria pats my hand. "I know you, stubborn in love. That quality served you well. Louisa is worth the wait."

"I hope she feels that way. "

Victoria takes my hand. "Look at me. Louisa adores you. She will be your strength come what may."

Chris calls later.

"Everything alright for the big day?"

I know that's a code for don't screw it up and be there. "Everything is going as planned."

Chris has always been there for me and I'm forever grateful.

"Louisa and I would not be getting married tomorrow if you hadn't pushed and prodded. Thanks."

There is silence on the other end and I know I have caught him off guard. It isn't often that I tell him thanks. Yet, I'm always grateful for his help, solicited and unsolicited.

* * *

By default, James is spending the night at my house. Louisa has decamped to his flat for some "me" time. This morning at breakfast, she had suggested , rather offhandedly, that James and I could have a stag night.

"A stag night? Haven't you got it wrong? He's my son, not my mate. Furthermore, I'm not giving up my freedom." Not that I have mates, Chris is the nearest friend I could call a mate.

"Martin don't be so pedantic, you know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't. James and I will be here and we'll do what we usually do."

Changing the subject, I plead with her, "I'm going to miss you. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Please don't start that again. It's only for one night."

So here I am locking up the house, and James is upstairs studying. Strangely, it turns out to be a father and son night with James playing the role of father.

I join James in his room and am surprised to see how well my desk fits in. Uncle Phil had made it for me to use during my summers with him and Joan. The desk is one of the few things Louisa had brought with her. Joan had passed it down to James when he was seven, about the same age I was when I got it. He has arranged a set of photographs on the desk. There is one of me reading at the desk which Louisa had retrieved from Joan's barn after her death, another of Louisa holding James as a baby with Joan's arms around them, and another his friends had taken of us at our table cum desk going over past exam papers. In another life, I would have harrumphed at such a display. Today I look at the photographs with a lump in my throat thinking, this is my family.

James's long frame is sprawled out on his bed and a few textbooks litter his bed. I take the side chair.

"So Dad, are you nervous?" Looking me straight in the eyes, he waits for my response.

"Yes and no. I have waited a long time for today. It's more like the butterflies you get before a stage performance. The nervous system goes into overdrive and the adrenaline rush allows the best of you to come to the fore."

He looks at me skeptically.

"Yet I'm strangely calm. At this point, your mum and I want the same things for each other.

"Do you wish you had married her on your first try instead of her marrying Dad and you becoming her second husband?"

I cut him short. That was his and Louisa's life in which I had no business.

"That was the path it took for us to be together. It gave me the time to become worthy of her love as well as yours. James, we weren't ready for each other. Now we are.

After a long silence, when I know he is thinking how best to say something, James opens up to me about family secrets. One in particular makes me angry.

"After Dad died, the village seized upon a what they thought was a juicy piece of gossip. They didn't mean to hurt Mum, but they did. Somebody spread the rumour that she was on the hunt for another husband to take care of her, just as she had gotten you to take care of her by getting pregnant with me. They whispered behind her back, _the third time's the charm_. They even took bets to see how long it would take her to find someone. It got so vicious, she hardly wanted to leave the house.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "She has never said anything to me about this. She speaks so well of the village."

"That's how she is," he says and continued.

"One night, she went to a party at the pub for one of her former students. When she arrived, everybody went quiet. She knew what was happening and throughout the night, tried to find out who was spreading the rumour. She didn't stop until a woman, we both knew, forced her husband to own up. She told him in her loudest voice that he was a sorry excuse a man and couldn't stand in the shoes of either you or Nathan. She never set foot in that pub again."

I feel rage boiling up in me which I struggle to contain. James must have seen the effect it was having in me because he said, "Let it go. It doesn't matter now. I shared this with you because I want you to know some of the pain Mum has endured."

Though unsaid, I understood that James was entrusting Louisa into my care with the hope that I would treat her well and be her protector.

"You don't have to worry James, I will look after your Mum."

My poor Louisa, my poor James. I know the ugly, parochial underbelly of the village that can erupt without warning. I had experienced it firsthand. But Louisa and James ... they deserved better. For the first time I began to understand why the village is no longer a happy place for Louisa.

To lighten the mood, James and I attempt a game of chess. We are competitive, a bit of a perfectionist, and have always enjoyed the cut and thrust of the game. Tonight it holds little interest for us. I know he's thinking about Nathan and the life they had. I feel a closeness to him that I had never felt before. He must have felt it too. As I got up to go to bed he held my hand and said, "You and Mum will have a happy marriage."

Louisa had called earlier and she is as emotional as I had expected. My job is to calm her and assure her for the umpteenth time that we will be there for each other tomorrow. I think I did this fairly successfully because after 10 minutes she said she was falling asleep.

"Martin, I want you to know that I love you and always will." Those were her last words to me before she admitted, as I suspected, that the wine she had consumed with her friends had gotten to her.

"I love you too. Please get some rest."

After the call, and all the talking I have done today, I am emotionally exhausted. Sleep comes quickly.

* * *

I give myself a full body stretch and make a wish that Louisa will enjoy her day. Looking through the window, the sky is clear and the tree tops glisten with dew. A perfect day. I give thanks that my wait is over. I missed not having Louisa in our bed last night, though I respect her reasons for wanting "Me" time.

Has it only been 15 months since that fateful day at Chris when we came back into each other's lives, I ask myself. If Louisa had not decided to have James, with or without my support, had not sent him to me when it was time to go to medical school and had I not honoured my promise to Laura, Louisa and I would still be living separate lives. There are no coincidences, Victoria likes to remind me.

Since she moved in permanently with me, it has taken us a little time to adjust to living with each other, but we're doing fine, despite our differences.

I am a creature of habit. I wake up every morning at about the same time, eat the same breakfast and have pretty much observed the same routine for as long as I can remember. That is, until James came to London. Then I willingly tweaked my schedule to accommodate him. My philanthropic projects have taken me slightly off course. However, they have brought a richness to my life that I could never have imagined, chief of which is that James and Louisa are now a part of those projects.

Living with Louisa, I have made some adjustments. Unlike me, she revels in the uncertainty and gentle chaos of her everyday life. She gets up most mornings wondering what's for breakfast. Getting dressed is a well choreographed dance of picking and choosing, until she finally selects the first item she had chosen. We would be reading in the lounge and she'd be overcome by emotions, sometimes lust, and come sit in my lap demanding that I come off course and fly with her. Those interludes usually end well, so I didn't mind. I have to eat dinner by a certain time, same for bedtime. Not Louisa. She now doesn't mind eating early because it gives us more time for each other before bed and for dancing which is something we enjoy. Louisa goes to bed when she pleases and sleeps fitfully. She wakes up at least once during the night, lies awake racking her brain about nothing in particular, then burrows her way into me or collapses on my chest, before she falls asleep again.

Our approach to problems, or what she calls problems, are fundamentally at odds. Yet, we manage to muddle through to a solution. Case in point is our wedding ceremony. Left to me, we would have gotten married at a register's office, with James, Chris, Jenny and Victoria as our witnesses.

I had agreed to everything Louisa suggested except her having a bridesmaid, and two at that.

"Why?" I asked querulously. "If you must, one is enough. Have her read something unless you're going to need help with your dress."

Once we decided on the number and what the person would do, she had another problem. "It has to be Caroline or Isobel, but it's hard to choose one over the other without offending one of them."

I couldn't see the logic of her reasoning. "We said we want a simple wedding. Throw a coin or something. Your friend Isobel had wanted to be your bridesmaid, let her have her wish now. Furthermore, Caroline and Gary are coordinating the event."

I had never understood why a heavily pregnant woman would take the risk of premature delivery or miscarriage by taking a long train ride to the village to be Louisa's bridesmaid. As it turned out, even if we had gone through with the wedding, she wouldn't have been a bridesmaid. She would have been in a hospital bed with her newborn baby which, with no other recourse, I had delivered.

We differed on what Isobel would read. Louisa wanted something that applied equally to the bride and groom. I tried to make my preference known without hurting her feelings.

"Our wedding is about you, about making you happy. My role is to make that happen."

She looked dubiously at me. "Are you sure?

"I am sure," I said, "and I have something perfect for the reading." With that, I went to my study and returned with the poem I had found the day after our engagement. I wasn't sure then what kind of wedding we would have, but I knew it would be my way of publicly pledging my love to her.

She liked it. "This is beautiful. It is perfect. You're full of surprises. This is so romantic."

Louisa and I are different but similar. She is my yin, and me her yang. She talks, I mostly listen. She tolerates the city, it is all I have ever known. She enjoys gentle chaos, I prefer calm. She worries, I prefer to fix it and if I can't, move on. Her temperament is mercurial, I'm as steady as the Northern Star. She's outgoing, makes friends easily. I prefer my own company and a small circle of friends. Together, we complete each other.

She hadn't brought much with her. The only big items were James's desk, her rocking chair and decorative pieces. According to her, Joan had given her the chair as a gift and she had kept it to preserve the memories of times spent nursing or playing with James or just soothing him as a baby. Joan had taken her to Truro to get a few bits and pieces and had surprised her by taking her to a posh furniture shop where she showed her the rocking chair. She had protested vigorously and told Joan that the money could be used to get things for James or put towards his schooling. Joan was equally adamant and had told her that I was not a mean person, and I would provide generously for James.

Louisa had relented and graciously accepted the chair. She had even given it a name, "_Joanie_."

What Joan didn't tell her was that I had selected and paid for the chair, after asking her what else Louisa needed besides things for the baby.

"Don't know that she would accept anything personal from me or you. But she could certainly do with a good rocking chair to replace that piece of junk Bert gave her. He means well, but she's not some charity case."

To this day, Louisa doesn't know I was behind this gift. Auntie Joan had helped me a lot to give her things or extra money, by keeping me abreast of what was happening. Dear Auntie Joan. She would be happy to know that her "chalk and cheese" were finally getting married.

A knock on the door interrupted my reverie. It was James, right on time. It was 7 am, the time we had agreed to rise for what would be a busy day.

"Good morning James. Ready to give your mum away into my care?"

"Yes. She will be in good hands. The best."

We sit in my bedroom sipping our espresso which he had brought up with him.

"Has your mum spoken with you?" I ask.

"No. She texted me to come over about 15 minutes earlier than planned. Said she had something to show me. Has she called you?"

"No. Her wish was that after last night, I would not see or speak with her until you brought her to me. You don't need to get here until 11 am. Caroline's instructions."

"Let's go downstairs. I'll make us a real English breakfast, something to fill you up until lunch." I smile. Sounds like our roles have been reversed. James is fathering me.

He prepares soldiers and fruits which ordinarily I would have enjoyed. I didn't eat much. Too many butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

When Caroline and Gary, sans their spouses, arrive at 9 am, I was already showered and sitting quietly by myself in the lounge. They had done some decorating the previous day out in the courtyard and had warned me that it was off-limits until I came outside for the ceremony. This morning they would complete the finishing touches.

I don't mind. I'm sure Louisa will appreciate the extra touches. I leave them to it and go upstairs to see that everything is ready for when my bride comes home.

Her new towels are hanging in the en suite. Her toiletries are everywhere, yet they add a homey touch to what has been a masculine domain for so long. The bed is made up with the new bed linen she likes, a composition of rust and grey with tiny yellow branches and a matching duvet. A huge bouquet of perfumed yellow roses are on the table in the bedroom's seating area. Caroline had suggested it and I agreed with her. Her clothes are neatly arranged in the closets, a job I had tackled yesterday. I unwrap the package sitting on my bedside table, a rose pink negligee set that she had admired the last time we went shopping and place it under her pillow. She had liked it when we saw it at the store, but as usual, had hesitated about buying it because of the price. I had called the store right after we left and had them deliver it to my office. I open her top drawer to check that her other wedding gift is still there. It is a string of pearls and matching erring which I'm sure she will like.

* * *

At 10 am, Aunt Ruth and her husband arrive. Dennis soon buries himself in a law journal he had brought along, "Weddings are not my thing," he explains when I look inquiringly at him. I leave him contentedly reading in the lounge while Aunt Ruth and I go into the study.

"Well Martin, you have finally pulled it off. How long has it been?"

I don't want a battle of wits today, so I hug her as I open the door to the study.

"Too long," is all I can muster.

"Better late than never I always say. I haven't seen Louisa since Joan's funeral although we have spoken regularly on the phone. How is she?"

"She's fine. Went through a rough patch leading up to and after her husband's death, but she's fine now."

"She has been through a lot," Ruth observes then zeroes in on me.

"You look well. Better than I have ever seen you look. James being in London is the best thing that could have happened to you. I'm surprised to hear that you have become a real father. James tells me about the things you do together and speaks well of your _Science Is Cool project_. Guess you always had it in you. I wish Joan were here to see you. I suppose I'll have to do. Louisa being back in your life must be the icing on the cake. You're a very lucky man, Martin."

Louisa was no bloody icing. She is everything, I mentally correct her. And as for Auntie Joan, I too wish she were here.

Her next remark is a direct rib at me, but I don't care. In her own way, Aunt Ruth means well.

"Louisa is much younger than you. Are you up to the rigours of someone many years your junior? May and December is not all it's made out to be. The body does slow down with age, as you should know."

"Aunt Ruth, Louisa and I are perfectly happy with each other." And look who's talking, you got married very late in life.

"If you say so," she shots back looking as if she didn't believe me. Ruth is all over the place today, being Auntie Joan and Aunt Ruth all in one.

"I'm glad you kept our mother's ring that Joan gave you all those years ago. She would be so happy that Louisa is finally going to wear it. Louisa was the daughter she never had. Martin, you made a good choice and I'm proud of you. " She leans over and uncharacteristically, kisses me on my cheek.

And on and on she goes. After Joan's death, she had taken it upon herself to keep an eye on Louisa and James. She spoke with them regularly and sent cheques for birthdays and Christmas. Ruth loved James, found him quite endearing, she said. He loved her back as she reserved her soft side for him. When she discovered that he wanted to be a doctor, she had been very helpful. In fact, she had been pivotal in getting him to agree to come to me in London.

Looking at Ruth, soldiering on despite her advanced age, I can see that marriage had softened her up. Dennis is a good man who matches her wit for wit in his own way. She's fond of saying that his job is to decide who gets prosecuted and she gets to meet them when he's done.

I was brought back to the present with a knock on the door by Gary signaling that it was time for me to get dressed. Caroline has it down to the last detail, I groan.

I put on the suit Louisa had requested I wear. My tailor had made me a new suit in Louisa's favourite colour - navy blue. She said it was the colour I had on when she met me at Chris. Dressed in my navy suit with a blue shirt and yellow tie. I proceed downstairs to meet with our guests.

Pauline meets me at the foot of the stairs with an excited scream and begins her usual jumping from one topic to another. I can scarcely keep up with her and just as well.

"Oh Doc, you look so handsome, so happy, so distinguished. You and Louisa are going to be very happy. I just know it. "

Although Pauline was a certified nurse and a successful business woman, I could see that she was still at heart the irrepressible receptionist I remember from my Portwenn surgery.

"I love, love, love your house. You're still the last of the big time spenders, I see."

No point in correcting her that the house is no longer mine, but mine and Louisa's.

Seeing that other guests are coming in, she pulls me into the study.

"Doc, we have had our ups and downs and I'm sorry about that letter."

I stop her. "Here's your letter. I wanted to hand it to you the next time I saw you." I take it from my pocket and put it in her hand.

Recovering quickly, she says, "You kept it all these years? You're something else. All's forgiven, Doc."

"Thanks," is all I get in before she rattles on.

"Now, back to what I was saying. You're the best doctor I have ever known. Louisa was always the one for you and I'm glad you're finally together again. Promise me you won't bolt before she comes."

"Pauline!"

"I know, I know. You're a big time consultant, but please promise me you two will stay together come what may. No running away again."

I nod wearily. "Pauline, this is it. I'm not going anywhere, and certainly not without Louisa."

Having given her my solemn word, I move on.

Downstairs looks lovely. Gary and Caroline have done a superb job. It will make Louisa happy. Gary's special creations are everywhere. I see why Louisa was so taken with them. They pull you in. You want to come closer and try to guess what each piece in the composition is, as I was doing.

Lunch is our wedding gift from Zee and Marissa. There's no sign of tables and chairs, I suppose they are somewhere outside. I trust that Caroline and Gary have taken care of the details as I don't want a repeat of the catering fiasco of my first attempt at marriage.

Neither Caroline nor Gary will allow me outside. "It's a surprise," they insist.

So here I am, feeling like a prisoner when Mrs. Green comes over to me. "You look happy, Mr. Ellingham."

"Humm," I mutter.

"I have good news for you. I managed to reschedule or cancel your appointments for next week."

I cannot believe my ears as a mental picture of my calendar flashes in front of me: meeting with the University Council; lunch with Mr. Akio, a brilliant vascular surgeon visiting from Japan; Practicals with final year registrars ...

I lower my voice deliberately and sort of scream at her. "There's nothing good about that, Mrs. Green. I had some very important commitments for next week."

"Well, they can wait," she says cheerfully. "Everybody was very understanding. As you know, you have a reputation for being a confirmed bachelor, married to your work. We are all happy for you."

I seriously suspect that Mrs. Green is suffering from a mild form of dementia. What she's telling me makes no sense. My personal life has nothing to do with my professional life.

She continues. "In case you didn't know, that's what people who have just been married do. They take time off, they go on a honeymoon, they spend time with their bride."

I know she means well, and I had sworn that nothing would upset me on Louisa's day. "Thank you Mrs. Green."

She smiles and I almost choke trying to return her smile.

Caroline walks over to me. "It won't be long now before Louisa arrives."

I see Chris walking towards me with a smile. I'm glad he's by my side, once again. I close my eyes and take deep breaths. The room is a quiet murmur of voices and I feel all eyes on me as I stand erect by the window. I open my eyes to see Chris standing before me.

"It's 10:55 AM," he says, "time for us to go outside."


	28. Come away with me

As Chris and I step into the courtyard, we walked under an archway of Gary's creation. I am momentarily caught off guard. What had been a nice courtyard, had been transformed into an exotic and beautiful city garden.

There's a suggestion of a canopy made of very thin fabric, with what looks like small pearly lights trailing down the posts holding it up at strategic points. As I got closer, I see they are not lights, but a kind of pearly looking bulbs which gives the illusion of light. Gary hands Chris and I a yellow rosebud boutonnière each, Louisa's idea. Ahead of us, Victoria is standing under another archway waiting on us. I wink at her. Behind her, there are at least 50 tea lights on a hanging shelf.

She walks towards me. "Martin I'm so happy for you." I see tears in her eyes and I hug her back. I feel the prickle of tears and will them away.

"Thank you Victoria." I can't say anymore. She understands.

I'm pleased at what I see around me - beautiful atmosphere and guests who share our joy. Louisa will love this.

At exactly 11 am, I hear the soft strains of John Lennon's _Imagine _and turn to look towards the door that leads from the courtyard into the house. Standing in the doorway is a radiant Louisa arm in arm with our son. My knees seem to buckle and I feel beads of sweat running down my back as I watch my bride walk the few steps to where I am waiting for her.

I have no idea where Louisa got her wedding dress, she had refused my offer to go shopping with her. Said it was bad luck or some such nonsense.

It is a simple knee-length cream sheath with tiny pearls embedded in it at strategic points, which wrap around her hips and slope up to one side of her slender waist up to around her back. The top, above her breast, is sheer all the way up to her neck, as well as her elbow length sleeves, and, as I discovered later, her upper back. It shows off her figure to perfection. Her hair is pulled back in a mass of loose curls. A tiny veil covers her face. Her only jewelry is a pair of delicate, sparkling pewter pumps decorated with pearls, and her engagement ring. She doesn't have on any makeup, just a red lipstick that I love.

James gently puts her hand in mine and we smile at each other. I feel her trembling. Her lips are quivering, but her eyes never leaves mine. I squeeze her hands lightly, more to steady myself really and wonder if she feels the sweat pouring from my palm. My beautiful bride looks at me with a trust I never thought possible. Victoria looks at us reassuringly as she begins.

Isobel steps forward to read an excerpt from the _Song of Solomon_. I know it by heart, so it doesn't matter that her voice sounds far away.

_"My beloved speaks and says to me: 'Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away."_

I hold Louisa's hand tight. At one point I thought she was going to faint and look over at Chris anxiously. He smiles back at me so I relax. All I can see is Louisa, the only sound is her breathing.

Victoria lights the two pillar candles on a table behind her and motions that it is time for us to say our vows.

Still trembling, but with a surprising strong voice, my bride holds my gaze and offers me her vow.

_I, Louisa Mary Tiggle take you Martin George Ellingham for my husband. Now we will feel no rain, for each of us will be shelter for the other. Now there will be no loneliness, for each of us will be a companion to the other. There is only one life before us, and our seasons will be good and long. I promise to be your partner, your lover, your friend, no matter what lies before us, for as long as we both shall have breath. _

I repeat that exact vow in as strong a voice as I can command, with Louisa smiling at me encouragingly.

We stand looking at each other, not hearing when Victoria pronounces us man and wife and invites me to kiss my bride. I did hear her say, "Friends, may I present Martin and Louisa Ellingham," but her voice seemed to be coming from another planet.

I have eyes only for Louisa, it is as If we're alone in our own little world. When Chris steps forward and nudges me gently, I pull her to me, slowly lift her veil from her face, run my hand up her back, lift her up in my arms and give her a long slow kiss meant only for our eyes. But I don't care now. When we break apart, there are tears in our eyes.

From the far distance, I hear a loud cheer. When I remember where I am and look up, Jenny, Caroline, Isobel, Pauline and Viola are openly crying. Aunt Ruth is dabbing at her eyes and Roger Fenn blows loudly into his handkerchief. James is the first to reach us.

He sweeps us up into a hug. "Congratulations, Mum and Dad."

Louisa hides her face in my chest and whispers, "I have waited so long for this."

"Me too," I tell her softly.

In the background, I hear the soaring melody of our song, Etta James's beautiful _At Last. _ Soon our friends surround us and offer their congratulations. Jenny gets to me first.

"Martin, I am so happy for you. So, so happy." She hugs me unable to say anymore. I give her my handkerchief. "Take this and get I grip,"

Shortly into our meet and greet, Caroline tells us that we have to dance at least one song. This comes as a surprise to me, but at Caroline's insistence, we walk towards the middle of the courtyard. Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, we smile as the first note of Adele's _Make you feel my love _sounds.

_When the rain is blowing in your face,  
And the whole world is on your case,  
I could offer you a warm embrace  
To make you feel my love._

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear,_  
_And there is no one there to dry your tears,  
I could hold you for a million years  
To make you feel my love._

Neither of us are self-conscious as we're in our own little world. We enjoy dancing to that song. Soon, our guests are swaying and singing along as we hold each other. We manage to put on a presentable performance. For all the dancing we like to do, we had never done so outside the walls of our home.

Dancing out of the way, we move from table to table to greet our guests. Thankfully, I don't have to say much as I am just going through the motions. I'm almost beginning to feel light-headed as I watch my smiling bride walking confidently from one table to the other, hanging on to my arm..

When she asks, "Isn't that right Martin?" or "Isn't that what you said Martin?" all I have to do is nod.

* * *

Roger comes up to me and shakes my hands. "I always hoped that one day you two would get back together. It seems that nothing was ever going to keep you apart."

"Thanks Roger. Louisa tells me that you stayed in touch with her even after you moved to Wadebridge. That was kind of you."

"She had it rough, even though she had Nathan for a time. It was the least I could do. Well, all's well that ends well. You and your family are together now. I know you'll look after her, so I won't ask."

I have always liked Roger. He never asked me to be who I was not when I came to village. Before I forgot my manners, I asked after his twin boys.

"Patrick plays violin and piano with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and teaches at the London School of Music. Paul lives in Italy and has a successful ceramic studio. Your wedding gift is one of his pieces. Thanks to him, we have a grandson who speaks Italian and English fluently."

What followed next threw me for a six. "Are you ready for grandchildren?

Me a grandfather? I knew Louisa loved children and would welcome grandchildren. I could only wonder what it would be like.

"That is a long way off. James is too busy and I don't think he's ready for children."

"Whether James is ready or not, children come when they are ready to come," Roger chuckled.

"Look at Maureen and myself, having children at our age. Look at you and Louisa."

"Ummph ..." was all I could say.

Tom Bosman was gracious. He got up and shook my hand when I walked over to where he was sitting. "You had me there, Martin. It was a very moving ceremony. I have never seen anything like this"

"All Caroline's doing. We trusted her to do a great job and she did."

"Well, yes, but it was more than that. I never thought you and Louisa would ever be back in each other's lives, yet here you are. I wish you a happy married life, Martin, a happy life."

* * *

Fortunately, Caroline interrupted to say the photographer was ready for us. I didn't have a response for Tom so I excused myself and went in search of Louisa. She was with Aunt Ruth who was holding court in the lounge. I came up just in time to hear her telling Rosie that her mother's name was Rose and it would be nice to have another Rose in the family. It would be even nicer if she and James did not wait too long to continue the Ellingham line. Louisa laughed helplessly when she realized that I have overheard all of that and walked into my arms.

"I know. The photographer is here. Let's get it over and be done with before Caroline has a coronary. I missed you," she whispered playfully.

"Me too."

"I'm so looking forward to when this is over. I'm starving."

"Let me fix you a plate," I offer, all concerned.

"No, the photos won't take long."

"Louisa, you don't want to be bride who passes out at her wedding." She's was adamant so we went outside to where Caroline was about to read us the riot act.

Taking the photos was not a bad as I had thought. The young man was capable and made Louisa laugh, and for that I was grateful. With nerves at high pitch and on a hungry stomach, Louisa could just as easily have broken down in tears.

Finally, we are sitting at a table with Chris, Jenny, Robert and Grace, his new wife who I was meeting for the first time. Louisa picks at her plate.

"I'm too hungry," she confesses. "Eating makes me feel worse.

"Well, at least you had breakfast. What did you have?" I wasn't prepared for her response.

"Nothing. I was too nervous."

Chris, Robert and I looked at her as if she had gone mad. It had to be at least eight hours since she had been awake. Grace steps in to save her. Of course Grace has no medical training, but as a gracious host, I allow her get away with her claptrap.

"Gentlemen, when you're a bride, love and a taste of cake is more than enough sustenance."

"I did have coffee and toast." She says defensively.

I decide to remain silent. It's our wedding day. Adrenaline will take her through the day until I can get her to eat properly.

* * *

I pulled Al aside, really to say thanks. He always called to say how the farm and the B&B were doing and sometimes shared news about Louisa or James. I really owe him.

"Good to see you Al. Everything alright, your health and so forth?"

"Yes, Doc. After knowing you and your talk about health and genes, I tried to look after myself properly."

"It shows. I appreciate your helping out Louisa and James."

"Doc, it was the least I could do. Louisa has always been special and you have been very kind to my family."

Then he went on to the matter at hand. "I'm glad you and Louisa finally got back together. Everybody in the village knew you were the one. Not that she didn't love Nathan, but it was always you. You were different."

"I was just plain lucky Al. Lucky she accepted me back into her life."

"So, are you coming down our side anytime soon?"

"Not sure when, but yes. I won't be able to keep Louisa away."

Al said what I had been thinking all day. "Mrs. Norton would have loved to be here, although I think she's here in spirit. She wouldn't miss this. Having James in her life made her very happy. Louisa and James were her family."

Realizing he might have thread on thin ice, Al apologized. "Sorry Doc, I didn't mean it that way. I know she was your aunt and you were like a son to her."

"I know what you mean Al. I should have been to see her more often. There were lots of things I should have done in Portwenn." The regret showed on my face and Al tried to cheer me up.

"Doc, no use crying over spilt milk. Today you got a chance to do the right thing by Louisa, James is back in your life and Mrs. Norton would be happy about that."

* * *

By 5:30 pm, we have the house to ourselves and are snuggled up in my favourite chair. I had gotten Louisa to eat a light meal when most of our guests had left and she was visibly calmer. She had begun complaining of a headache which I'm sure had to do with her drinking the night before. Jenny made her a cup of tea and I made sure to sit with her and watch her have it.

"You old fusspot," she teased. "Caroline is enough for one day."

The house had been put back in order, ready for our "honeymoon" as Jenny called it. We had decided to enjoy our post-wedding time at home in London and go down to Cornwall later when our cottage was ready. Thanks to Mrs. Green's blundering, I would be home next week.

For thank-you gifts, we gave Caroline a charm for her bracelet and Gary a piece of garden equipment which Isobel said he had lusted after. We gave the Parsons a long-weekend in a posh London hotel, that came with an overnight cruise along the Thames. Jenny would enjoy the pampering and because it was not far from Imperial, we thought Chris would be able to meet up easily with some of his colleagues. For Victoria, my very special friend, I had my jeweler make up a bracelet of white gold and turquoise, her birthstone.

I put aside my mental review of the day and turn my attention fully to Louisa who is curled up in my arms. She is still my radiant bride, still dressed in her wedding dress, although she had kicked off her shoes. That piece of jewelry has been replaced with her wedding ring, a plain white gold band dotted with tiny rubies. I have a matching band, plain, save for one ruby. The words, _At last, M & L _are inscribed on our ring_._

Suddenly, I feel weak, my face flushed. I am in delayed shock. Louisa is finally my wife. Years of yearning for her are now a reality. Louisa must have sensed the change in my mood, because she begins rubbing my shoulders, something I enjoy. I reach for the glass of water next to us, and take a long gulp.

"Is everything alright Martin?"

I couldn't answer. The words wouldn't come out right. Aunt Ruth's May and December rib ring in my ears. What if tonight, of all nights I cannot satisfy my bride? We never had a problem. In fact, we had slipped into an easy, spontaneous intimacy after our first night together.

"What is it Martin, you can tell me you know," Louisa murmurs as she brings her lips to my ear and began nibbling on it.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just delayed shock," I lie.

"That makes two of us. I think that's one of the reasons I had a headache earlier. Everything was rushing around in my head, it was too much. When I was saying my vow, I couldn't hear myself or see anyone but you. "

To play for time, I caress her soft arms, play with her hair and trace the outline of her face with my fingers. She responds by opening the top buttons of my shirt and lets her hands wander over me.

"Are you trying to get me hot?" I ask hoarsely. I can tell by her breathing that she is feeling as I am. "

"Why not?" she asks playfully. "It's my wifely duty. I know something that will cool us down for a bit, if you want."

I don't want to be cooled down. Not really. But when she suggests that we spend some time in the soaking tub I jump at it. Ever since her first time, Louisa has found it relaxing and I enjoy being in it with her.

We go upstairs to shower and almost didn't make it back downstairs. She looks around as we enter the bedroom, her expression a mix of joy and shock.

"Everything is so beautiful. Thanks for making this day special for me. I know it must have cost you a pretty penny."

I cut her short, there she goes again. "Louisa, you have to stop doing that. I want to shower you with the best. Nothing is too much for my bride." I reach under her pillow and give her the negligee. "And it includes this, one of my wedding gifts to you."

She's visibly moved and reaches for the negligee. "This is what I had wanted to wear tonight. When I went back to the store the day after, they said it was gone. It was you. Martin Ellingham, I hardly know this romantic side of you."

"You bring out the best in me," I say as I play with her hair.

Then she grins. "You're really a Londoner. You called immediately, I waited and went back to the store."

"Well ... "

She reminds me, "The soaking tub." We shower quickly then go outside for a soak. The bliss on Louisa's face warms my heart. I'm brought back to reality from my half-asleep state by Louisa.

"This feels so good. I have been a wreck all day."

"You could have fooled me. You looked confident and radiant ," I mumble as I watch the water lapping around her shoulder.

"And you looked so handsome, my husband, " she teases. "Can't believe you stood up so well. I was expecting you to start fidgeting mid-way through. I'm glad it went well and we can finally relax" Louisa says as she sinks further into the tub.

"Well, it's your day, and it's not over yet. Anything you want is yours for the asking."

"I have a question. What were you and Al talking about? You both looked so serious."

I didn't dare tell her how grateful I was to Al, lest it led to other questions.

"Oh, we caught up on what was happening at the farm and such things."

"You always did get along with Al, didn't you?"

"Somebody had to save him from his father."

"You?" she burst out laughing. "If I recall you didn't get along with your father."

"Let's not talk about that," I protested.

Unwittingly, I had led her into territory I had not ventured into for years.

"Whatever happened to them? Ruth has never spoken about them. I wondered about them when James was born. I never wanted him not to have family as I really didn't have any."

"They have been dead for some time. They divorced and went their separate ways. Dad had a stroke and died in a London nursing home. Mum had an unhappy marriage, a nervous breakdown and died alone five years into her marriage in Portugal."

"So they must have been alive when James was born. Wonder if Ruth ever told them that they had a grandson."

"Louisa." I had to stop this discussion. I hadn't thought about them for over 20 years and I wasn't going to do so on my wedding day.

"That's all in the past. Ruth has a great relationship with James and, as far as I know, she's about the only family I have."

Louisa leaned against me quietly for a long time and I was content to hold her in my arms and watch the water lapping around her shoulder.

"Time to go in." I nudged her gently when I felt her dozing off.

Out of the blue, she asked, "Martin, I have met some of your friends and want to get to know them better. Can we invite them over every now and again?"

I hadn't changed that much. I still enjoy my solitude, and only went to the occasional staff event under duress. Patients, especially the well-connected ones, had always invited me to their social events but I had always declined citing the need to keep work and pleasure separate.

Her request seemed simple. Besides the confrontation with Caroline, the dinner with her friends had gone well. "Yes," I promised and helped her up from the tub.

Then we went upstairs to our bedroom for our first night together as husband and wife.

As we lay together, I took my finger and wiped away the tears trickling down Louisa's face. "Thank you for marrying me and for giving me our son. We're finally a family." I say softly.

"My pleasure. Thank you for making my life complete. There's nothing I want that I do not now have."

We drifted off to sleep with her lying against my chest with my arms wrapped around her and her hair tickling my face. All was well in the Ellingham household. May and December were doing just fine.


	29. Genius Award

Even as I finished dressing for Imperial's Genius Awards where I would be honoured as its 21st recipient in its 100-year history, I was regretting my decision to accept the Award.

Glancing over at Louisa who was already dressed, I asked "How do I look?" I had on the cuff links she and James had given me to mark the occasion. It had been engraved with the words, _at last _and I was deeply touched by their gift.

Her answer was a kiss on my cheek. "You look more handsome and distinguished in your tuxedo than I have ever seen you. I love a man in a tuxedo. Perhaps we ought to start going to more fancy events," she suggested seductively.

I returned her kiss. "No we don't. We had better get going or we may never leave here." Then with a grimace, "I hope the evening will be short."

I wasn't looking forward to being in the spotlight. Worse, I dreaded delivering the acceptance speech that was expected of me.

Before we left the house, Louisa had a warning for me. "Please try not to look bored."

"I'll try, but no promises. These events are an awful waste of time."

* * *

For years, Imperial had tried to get Martin to accept their Genus Award in recognition of the cutting-edge innovations he had developed in vascular surgery, his brilliant surgical skills and his rarified leadership in his field. He had turned them down repeatedly with the excuse that he was a paid employee just doing his job and that was the only reward he wanted.

However, the forces began conspired against him when Robert attended Martin's wedding. Robert was amazed that Ellingham and the beautiful headmistress from Cornwall had gotten back together. He was smitten by Louisa and as he watched her walking up to meet Ellingham, he was struck by her adoration for a man he thought was a lifelong bachelor. He had never met Louisa but had heard the rumour about their breakup, the son Ellingham had fathered and had watched James's entry into Imperial with a sense of déjà vu.

Since the wedding, Robert's need to have Martin accept the Award had become an obsession, especially because the Awards was traditionally held in October. Plus, for the last 10 years, Imperial had not identified any other candidate who met their stringent, some said impossible, criteria other than Martin. Robert had retired years ago, but still wielded enormous influence from his seat on many of the hospital's influential committees. He recognized immediately that James was another genius in the making. Therefore, he had to get Martin to accept the Award before Imperial could begin grooming his son.

Seeing how happy Ellingham was on his wedding day, Robert correctly guessed that as a family man he might be more disposed to accepting the Award, if not for himself, his family.

And so, unbeknown to Martin, that was why he and Chris were enjoying curry at their favourite Indian restaurant, in Mr. Patel's inner sanctum. Mr. Patel's establishment was on a first come first serve basis. When lunch was over, it was over. This was the rule he imposed without fear or favour. However, he was an astute businessman and did make the occasional exception. For Martin and Chris, his longtime customers, more friends really, lunch was always available.

After being served by Mrs. Patel in their personal dining room above the restaurant, Chris and Martin enquired about the Patel's children and grandchildren, looked at photos of the family, then settled down to their meal. But, not before Mrs. Patel asked Martin when was he going to bring his wife around.

Martin could understand that if she worked at Imperial, she would know about his marriage. She didn't, hence his question. "My wife? You mean Louisa?"

"Yes, Martin, your wife Louisa. Word gets around, " Mrs. Patel said with a twinkle in her eyes. "I hear she's from Cornwall so I'll have to go easy with the curry for her. Just let me know before you bring her."

Turning his attention to Chris after Mrs. Patel had left for downstairs, he asked, "What business brings you to London?"

Chris airily explained. "Jenny wanted to visit Greg so we're here for the weekend."

"Oh," Martin sighed, not believing a word. Hadn't Chris and Jenny stayed with their son a couple of weeks ago when they came for his wedding in June?

"Robert tells me that you have turned down the Genius Award."

"Oh, not that again," he grumbled.

"Yes, that again. Now that you're a family man and James is a doctor, you may wish to reconsider it as a gift to your family."

"Well done," Martin muttered sarcastically. "I see that Robert and the Committee have gotten to you."

"No Mart, not so. Haven't we had this discussion every time the Committee approached you? Have you spoken to Louisa or James about it?"

"Whatever for? I work at Imperial and my salary goes towards providing for them. I can't see how an award is going to change that."

"I can. If not for Louisa, think about James. It would make him so proud of you. They don't dish out that award like candy, you know, only to the truly deserving who have reached the pinnacle of their profession."

"Chris!"

"I know, I know Mart. Just think about it. I would give an arm and a leg to be even considered for this award. You have been short-listed and refused it so many times that sometimes I think you are a reckless sod tempting fate. Talk to your wife and son before you say "no" again. That's all I ask."

James had been non-committal. A true Ellingham, his response had been, "Your call, Dad."

Louisa was thrilled. "It's an honour you deserve, Martin. Look at all the setbacks in your life and how much you have worked to overcome them. Think about James. Think how proud he would be of you," she said as she made small circles on his shoulder as they lay in bed one night. Martin was more thinking about the effect her touch was having on him, and dutifully promised to give the award some thought.

"I'm serious Martin," Louisa had insisted, well aware of the power her body had over him and not wishing him to brush the matter aside.

* * *

As Martin and Louisa were escorted to their seat at the head table, his friends and colleagues rose to their feet and burst out in applause. Martin smiled shyly back at them while Louisa held his hand even tighter and flashed her famous smile. For many, it was the first time they were seeing Louisa and they couldn't take their eyes off her and the way Ellingham looked at her adoringly. They looked stunning and so much in love. Many eyes then turned towards James, the other Ellingham to watch, and were amazed by his uncanny resemblance to his father and, and from all reports, the medical gift he had inherited from him.

Louisa had helped Martin to prepare a list of special guests to share the evening with him. For all Martin cared, the evening could to be over and done in at most, an hour. Louis thought otherwise. Sitting at two special tables were Chris and Jenny; Robert and Grace; James and Rosie; Paul Milligan and his wife Betty; Victoria and her husband Lance; Zee and Marissa; Mrs. Green and her husband Kenneth; Viola, her husband Bill, and their daughter Jackie; Martin's assistant, Isaiah Bent and his wife Joan; his lead researcher, Mary Pringle and her date, Don, and Dennis, who had come to represent Aunt Ruth. She had declined the invitation saying it was a lot of fuss, although she was secretly very proud of her nephew.

"The night belongs to Joan, not me," she had dryly told Louisa. "Martin's life has certainly picked up since you and James came back into his life."

When Martin walked up to receive his Award, after sitting through a lengthy citation of his extraordinary achievements, he was given a standing ovation. Through all the flashing cameras and handshakes from colleagues who joined him on the dais to offer their congratulations, his eyes never really left Louisa.

Nobody expected him to wax poetic when he began his acceptance speech by thanking the Board of Regents, other notables and his colleagues. That was not his style.

_"I'm honoured to be conferred with Imperial's Genius Award. Save for a for short time in Cornwall, Imperial is the only hospital where I have practiced. I have grown up with this hospital and learned my craft from its many illustrious surgeons. I came of age at Imperial, and, even as my time here is coming to an end, I'm humbled that you, my peers, have seen fit to recognize my work as the Genius Awards 21st honouree."_

You could hear a pin drop when he dedicated the Award to his Auntie Joan, Uncle Phil, Louisa and James.

"_Auntie Joan and Uncle Phil always made time to listen to me when, as a boy spending summers with them in Cornwall, I would race excitedly inside or wherever they were on their farm to tell them about something new I had discovered about the world around me. I still remember how proud I was each time I found one of the 42 species of butterflies, of _the order Lepidoptera, _ for which Cornwall is famous. Joan and Phil Norton were honest, salt-of-the-earth farmers, not scientists. Yet, they were the ones who bought me books to nurture my curiosity and never tired of listening to me. The lessons I learned in Cornwall went beyond those I learned in some of London's best public schools. This Award belongs to them. _

_To my wife Louisa and our son James, this is also your Award. You were the other two important people in my life in Cornwall. Whatever good I achieved in the furtherance of medical science, whichever life I was able to save, it was done in tribute to the purpose and meaning you gave to my life._"

With this, he bowed to his colleagues on the dais and those in the audience and took his seat beside Louisa who planted a kiss full on his lips.

It took a few seconds before everyone realized that they had heard Martin Ellingham, with their own ears, sharing a very personal story and that they had seen him, with their own eyes, receive his wife's kiss with a smile. It took the evening's Chair a good five minutes to quiet the applause and shouts of "Prof." that filled the room.

* * *

The formal part of the evening over, Martin moved around the room greeting friends and colleagues and introducing Louisa to the many eager to meet her.

Louisa stayed to chat with Zee, Marissa and Viola while Martin moved on.

"Seriously Louisa, I'm glad you're back in Martin's life. For all the years I have known him, I never believed he could be so happy. He hasn't always been like this you know," Zee said, kissing Louisa on her cheek. "We are forever indebted to you."

Marissa couldn't help asking. "How did you get back together after all these years?"

This was a question Louisa had been asked many times so she had a ready answer. "We were an insecure lot when we first met, but had never stopped loving each other and our son kept us in each other's lives. Time and tide brought us together again when we were ready for each other."

"Yours is truly a love story," Marissa said with moist eyes. "I have known Martin for a very long time and I'm happy for him. Guess you also had a hand in getting him to accept the Award?"

"Not really," Louisa said with a straight face, but she did remember her conversation with Martin the night he had told her about it and how eager he had been to move things along when she began caressing his shoulder.

Paul was delighted. It gave him great professional satisfaction to know that he had a hand in curing Martin's haemophobia and he was proud that Martin had brought Louisa to him to help with her problem. What a love story, he mused as he watched them enter the room holding hands. Louisa was glad to see him and had whispered in his ear as she greeted him later with a hug, "Thank you so much for helping us. Tonight would have been impossible without you."

"You both did the work," he had responded modestly.

Martin caught up with Louisa as she was talking to Chris and Jenny. "Can we leave now?" he asked, his hand caressing the exposed part of her back. The evening had gotten too much for him and he wanted to be alone with her. He had watched her all evening and couldn't help marvelling at how beautiful and confident she looked in the red gown she had bought for the occasion. It had a demure high neck in the front and long sleeves but was open almost to her waist in the back.

"Not yet, Martin. You're the guest of honour. It would be bad form to leave so early."

Actually, Martin wasn't minding the evening so much, especially watching Louisa and James being acknowledged by everybody. He was very proud of his family.

"When are you two going on your honeymoon?" Jenny asked. "Your cottage is almost ready. It would be nice to spend Christmas in Cornwall, your engagement anniversary. "

"Have to get back to you on that. Martin can't think so far ahead now," Louisa said with a laugh.

"Oh. Well, the evening is still young," Jenny said and looked at Martin with a grin. It was true. Martin couldn't wait to get Louisa home.

Chris had listened to the conversation with a satisfied smile as he saw how well Martin and Louisa had taken to married life. There was a worry at the back of his mind, though. He had spotted Dr. Kent at the back of the room seated with some of her colleagues. He knew Martin had not invited her and if Louisa saw her she would have been very upset. Why was she here anyhow? He decided to have a word with Viola the next day. He needed have worried, she had not escaped Viola's eagle eyes.

* * *

Viola hadn't earned a reputation for being Martin's friend and staunch supporter for nothing. When she saw Dr. Kent leave the room to go to the loo, she followed swiftly, waited until the door closed on her, then asked the two security people outside in the hall to close the loo and direct others to another facility down the corridor. She explained that the doctor inside was having a medical distress and she needed the privacy to help her. They were taken with Viola's charm and quickly did as she instructed.

When Dr. Kent came out the stall, Viola was waiting for her, and casually reapplying her lipstick.

"So, Dr. Kent, what are you doing here?

"Oh, good evening. I didn't know you were here. I came with some colleagues to support Mr. Ellingham."

"Cut the bull doctor. I want you to leave the building now."

"Who the hell do you think you are, asking me to leave? Is this your function?

"Don't hell me woman. I have filed a report to your supervisor for your harassment of Mr. Ellingham and I can do so again. Mr. Ellingham does not want you anywhere near him or his wife, at this hospital, at his home, or anywhere else they may be. Do you understand me?

"I don't know what you're talking about. I should report you for harassment. "

"Go right ahead. Now," Viola looked at her watch, "I don't have all evening. I want you to leave this function, this building now."

" Why should I? I can't leave. I'm with friends."

"Yes, you can. The last time I checked you were not on the guest list."

Realizing she was beaten and not wanting to go up against the formidable Professor Grant, her next words, in her meekest voice, were "At the very least, you will allow me to go back inside to say goodbye to my colleagues, won't you?"

Viola was not in the mood to negotiate.

"Listen doctor, here are your choices. You can leave here and walk straight through the door of this building or you can go back inside to say goodbye, accompanied by me and a security person. Make your choice, and quickly," she snapped.

The entire interaction took exactly seven minutes from the start of the conversation to the time Viola stood on the steps and watched Dr. Kent walking across the street, back to the hospital.

"I have a mind to escalate my report to the Board for harassment. The nerve of her," she muttered then went back into the hall, took her seat and gave Chris a wink.

* * *

When the car that had been put at our disposal for the evening brought us home, I took a long breath as I opened the door for Louisa. Once inside, I got us a glass of water and went upstairs to our bedroom. Louisa kicked off her shoes and sank in the bed.

"Martin, I'm so proud of you. Good thing I married you. You were always a catch, you know."

"Me? You mean you. Everybody wanted to be introduced to you and I saw a lot of doctors eying you," I said in mock jealousy.

"And what are you going to do about it? I came home with you, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Getting serious, I asked, "Are you happy you married me?" I'm not sure where that came from, but from time to time I seemed to need that reassurance.

"Martin, I don't know how you dream up these questions. Where is this coming from? I love being your wife. I love being with you. Tonight is your night. Come here."

With that she grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me down beside her on the bed. "If you want another award for the night, you will have to earn it," laughing as I began tugging at the zipper on her dress.

All through the evening, I had stolen glances at Louisa and looked out at James. Never before had there been anybody who cared enough about me to attend any of the functions where I had been given a prize or an award of some kind. And there had been many of those. Joan and Ruth, of course, always called and sent a card. My parents had never been to any save for my medical school graduation and they only came because their friends would find it strange if they hadn't. It had been a disaster. Dad got drunk and spent the evening cozying up with a female colleague. Mum sulked over many glasses of vodka.

I still didn't give a damn about the award, although I appreciated the honour. Louisa had prepared a special place for it on the mantle in our upstairs sitting room. It would join a couple of James's awards, some of hers and some of mine that she had brought up from my study. I would do anything to make my family happy. Louisa was ecstatic about my award, although I suspected that tomorrow's newspapers might devote a column inch or two to describing the beautiful Mrs. Ellingham.

Looking at Louisa laying on our bed smiling, her hair spread out around her, her dress half way down to her waist exposing her barely covered breasts, I was filled with lust and love all at the same time.

"I'm going to earn my most meaningful award of the evening," I vowed and proceeded to undress and caress her until she lay still and pulled me close. "Now, Martin."

"I love you so much," was all I could say before we lost ourselves in each other as she gave me the priceless award of her love. As we lay cuddled in each other's arms, Louisa cradled my face and said, " You make me very happy. Mr. Ellingham."

"Me, too, Mrs. Ellingham."

Then we fell into a peaceful sleep.


	30. Slaying the dragon

The next morning, a Monday, I was in my meditation space preparing myself for my monthly lecture for vascular surgeons from all over London. Seats were awarded by lottery and I never knew who would turn up in the audience. I heard a slight sound and opened my eyes to see Louisa staring at me.

She pulled her robe closer and asked, "May I come in? I need to say something and I want to do it before you leave."

Today was going to be a busy day, and I needed to make an early start, but seeing the look on her face, I said, "Yes" and made space for her on my mat.

Pulling her to me, I asked, "Sleepyhead, why are you up so early?"

"I need to talk to you about something that happened last night. I didn't want to say anything last night to spoil your evening."

"Having you and James with me was perfection."

Looking at me, she took my hand. "I saw Dr. Kent. What was she doing there? Did you invite her?"

For a moment I thought I was in a parallel universe, so much so that my response came out in an unintended way.

"Are you feeling well? What would she be doing there?"

"I'm very well, thank you. And as for why she was there, I don't know. I hope you don't think I'm being paranoid," she said icily.

"At my Awards? Viola is on the committee, which is why she asked us if we wanted to invite special guests. If she had seen Dr. Kent on the list, I'm sure she would have said something to me."

Louisa remained silent. Feeling the weight of the morning already on her, she got up with a sigh.

"I know you have to leave early. We will discuss it later."

She kissed me on my cheek and left.

I held her hand to prevent her from leaving, but she shook it off.

"Just go. We will talk about it later. It can wait. "

Watching her retreating back, I wondered what I could do to reassure her, then went after her. She was back in bed, under the duvet, her back turned away from me. Looking at the clock, I knew I didn't have much time.

I leaned down and kissed her on her cheek. "We will get to the bottom of this, Louisa."

She said nothing, just pulled the duvet higher over herself.

I pulled the duvet down and turned her around to face me. "Please don't be angry with me. I will deal with this. Please do not worry. Promise?"

She shook her head unconvincingly. For the first that I could remember, I wished I could send somebody in my place to give the lecture. Years of discipline did not allow me to pursue this line of thought, but I looked longingly at Louisa in bed and wished I could stay to comfort her. She hid her worry well last night, I thought. Knowing her as well as I now did, I knew today would be a difficult day for her.

Louisa looked at Martin and smiled wanly. Would this woman ever go away? Hadn't she suffered enough at the hands of Edith ... the embarrassment at having to admit the meagre number of times Martin I had been intimate, the constant sniping about the size of my baby, then after Martin left, the intrusive questions about how I was going to manage. I knew Martin wasn't having an affair, but I didn't want this woman flitting in and out of our life.

Martin left home deeply troubled and on the way in, texted Mrs. Green to have her arrange an urgent meeting with Viola.

With this new wrinkle in his life, he walked determinedly through the staff entrance to the lecture hall to confer with his technical assistant on slides he had recently altered for today's lecture.

He had seen the crowd filing in and had wondered what was happening. A crowd of this size was odd.

When he walked out to the platform, the entire lecture hall, filled to overflowing, rose in a standing ovation.

Still bristling from his conversation with Louisa, he shouted above the din to his assistant, "What the hell is going on, Isaiah?"

Isaiah looked at him incredulously. "It's you! Your Genius Award."

Martin was not in the mood for ovations. "I can't be here all day. So let's get to it." His mind was already on what he would say to Viola to get Dr. Kent out of his life.

The cheering would not stop. There he stood looking bemused at all the attention, the spotlight outlining his tall frame clad in a crisp navy suit and the genuine puzzlement flitting across his face, with his team lined up behind him clapping along with the others. Viola touched him lightly.

"I got this Martin."

"Thank you, thank you. Thank you everybody. Now, if you will take your seats, Mr. Ellingham will say a few words, then get on with the lecture."

Martin stood transfixed. The hall went silent, yet everybody remained standing. They were waiting on the legend to address them, to sweep them up by association in his history-making Genius Award.

Viola turned to him, put her hand on his back and whispered, "You have to say something, Martin," then gave him a gentle nudge.

"_Colleagues, thanks for your outpouring of goodwill. Thank you for supporting me through good times and not so pleasant times. I appreciate the honour of being conferred with the Genius Award. However, please understand that without your support," _he paused and nodded at his team and members of the audience, _"I would not have deserved this Award." _

The hall broke out in wild applause, touched by his modesty. Everybody knew that Martin was a gifted surgeon and nothing they had personally done, could have influenced his prodigious medical skills in one way or the other. His contemporaries knew that well. They had watched him reach the pinnacle of his career at an early age, only to be felled by haemophobia, then slain that dragon and return to surgery to even greater fame and acclamation.

When Martin got back to his office, Mrs. Green motioned to his inner office. "Prof. is waiting on you."

"Martin, is something wrong?'" Viola asked seeing his face. He had discarded the mask he had worn all morning when he closed the door and saw her sitting before his desk leafing through a journal.

"God, yes. Louisa is distraught and I hated leaving her like that. We have to get this Dr. Kent matter resolved.

Viola's eyes narrowed. "What matter?"

"Louisa saw her last night. She thinks I had something to do with her being there."

"No, you didn't. She turned up, uninvited, with some of her colleagues. I asked her to leave the building which she did. I also threatened to report her to the Board for harassment. I reported her some time ago to her supervisor and as far as I know, she was issued a warning."

"I didn't see her. Something is not rational about her behaviour. This is so unlike her."

Thinking aloud he said. "I'm going to report it to the police. This is now harassment and stalking."

"No, Martin. I will handle this. This is not something that Genius Awardees get involved with. She is one of us and I'll see to it that she gets help. If it's a psychosis or personal issues, we will deal with it."

"Do what you need to do, then. I'll speak with her chief."

" No, Martin. Think of how it's going to look. The accusation about a child ..." Viola hastened to correct herself. 'Even though there was never any basis for it. But still ..."

"Tom is a friend. I need to speak with him. My only concern is Louisa. She doesn't deserve this."

"How is she doing."

"Not well. I spoke with her before I walked over and she sounded sad. Not much different from when I left her this morning."

After they had finished their discussion, Viola held his hand as she was about to leave.

"We'll work on it from our different strengths. You go home to your wife and give her all the comfort you can. And please, take a break yourself. I don't want to see you here for the rest of the week."

She left, then popped back in. "You may want to give her flowers."

"That won't help. She's scared."

Viola was firm. "It always helps."

Louisa had buried herself in work all day to keep her mind distracted. When Martin walked through the door carrying yellow roses, she hugged him, glad to feel his reassuring warmth.

"Yellow roses. This is so kind of you. Martin, I'm sorry I was cross with you this morning."

"No, no. I know it wasn't personal."

"How was your day?"

"Umph ... could be better. How was yours?"

"Good," she lied. "Please wash up and let's have dinner."

Martin knew he would have to resume their earlier conversation and waited until they had eaten their dinner in near silence, as they usually did. Dinner over, they tidied up the kitchen then went and sat in the lounge. He told her about the plan he and Viola had come up with. She said nothing, just looked at him anxiously. He knew of no other way to comfort her than to turn to something that had the power to draw them close.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked and helped her up.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.

"You don't have to say anymore. You're tired," she whispered.

"No, I want to do it now."

With his head resting gently on hers he asked, "Remember how we promised to be honest with each other even when we are afraid?"

"Yes."

"Tell me honestly, are you afraid? I told you, she's no threat, ever, to our marriage."

"I know that Martin. I know you love me. But I don't know if she may harm you or James. I just don't know."

"She poses no harm to me. Viola is going to ensure that she's forced to undergo a full workup, including neurological testing."

"And?"

"If there's a neurological issue, it may take longer than I had hoped to have the matter resolved."

Louisa stopped moving and looked up at Martin. " And what do I do in the meantime? What happens when I see her next?"

He drew her head back against his chest. "You're not in any physical danger. None of us are."

"You don't know that Martin. You don't know what is going on with her."

"No, but I'm going to see that she gets help."

"Then what?"

"Then we get on with our life as we have been doing."

Louisa pulled Martin's head down to hers. "Promise me that if you see me going over the top about this, you will stop me."

Remembering her amnesia and what had brought it on, Martin said, "You don't have to worry about that. I will watch over you, watch over our family, until this is all over."

Both trusted that the matter would go as planned and drew strength from each other.

As they swayed to Eric Clapton's _Wonderful Tonight _playing softly in the background, Martin knew he would do anything to protect his family from harm.

_We go to a party and everyone turns to see  
This beautiful lady that's walking around with me.  
And then she asks me, "Do you feel all right?"  
And I say, "Yes, I feel wonderful tonight."_

I feel wonderful because I see  
The love light in your eyes.  
And the wonder of it all  
Is that you just don't realize how much I love you.


	31. On the high seas

I'm getting accustomed to the ebb and flow of our life on the waterway called marriage. Louisa and I empty into the same vast unknown but we get there differently. Like water, she can't be contained. My job is to smooth her way.

She has been going to The Centre for almost two months, ever since Melody wrote her a letter apologizing for her rude behaviour on Louisa's first visit to The Centre. They met and over tea in the small cafe on premises, Louisa realized that Melody needed a listening ear. Soon, Melody started sending her friends to Louisa for advice.

The first sign that something was amiss came one morning at breakfast. I watched helplessly as she gobbled down what passed for a meal.

"Is that all you're eating? Toast and coffee?" I asked incredulously.

She corrected me brightly, as she moved towards the door lugging her handbag and a carry bag bulging with papers. "That's all I have time for."

I tried to delay her departure. "You do know that your bag is too heavy. What do you have in it anyway?"

"Research material for the Cornwall exhibition and information for Melody's friend."

"Don't you think you're going overboard? You're supposed to be pacing yourself, volunteering, not taking on a full-time position. What about the flexibility you said you wanted?"

She reached up and said goodbye with a kiss. I tried to prolong the moment by hugging her, bags and all, and returning her kiss with the passion she stirred in me, just by being who she is.

When she came up for air, she looked at me with smoldering eyes. "You know I have to go."

I held her even tighter with one hand and ran my other hand over her, willing her to stay. She pulled away from me laughing. "Not even that, as tempting as it is, will keep me away from The Centre today. Hold that thought until I see you later."

* * *

Shortly after she started going to The Centre, deep sleep became a luxury. One night, she was particularly restless. I held her firmly against me until she stopped twisting around.

"Sorry, Martin," she said cuddling up against me. She settled after she found a comfortable spot, then began shifting about again.

I turned on the beside lamp and sat up in bed. "Come here." I straightened her nightie around her, smoothed her hair then held her in my arms and rubbed her back.

Looking up at me with a sleepy smile, she murmured, "You're so good to me, Martin," before she fell asleep.

I looked at the clock. Luckily it was a Friday night, we could sleep in tomorrow.

* * *

Things began coming to a head one night after I reached for her and discovered that she was not in bed. I fell asleep again, thinking she would be back soon.

The next morning I looked over at the clock. It was 7 am and her space besides me was still empty. I found her asleep on the couch in the upstairs lounge. Her pyjama top was half off her, the blanket she used for cover was on the floor, she was entangled in the sheet she had spread on the couch and her pillow was on the floor. She must have had a troubled night.

Looking at her, my mind reached back to my last few months in the village. Our relationship was tumultuous, with hazards on every turn. I had tried to discourage her from applying for the headmistress position when she was so heavily pregnant, to no avail. I had only wanted her to take it easy for herself and our baby's sake. She had stormed into my kitchen and told me off for trying to sabotage her efforts to get the job. I hated having Edith in my kitchen overhearing our conversation. I winced when I remembered how badly I had treated Louisa. All I had wanted to do when she began crying was to fold her in my arms, beg her to come and live with me so that I could look after her and the baby properly. Instead, I had been so stiff and afraid of being rebuffed that she thought I was being mean and spiteful and had stormed out of the kitchen, as much as someone heavily pregnant could.

This morning I did what I should have done back then. I extricated her from the web of textiles around her, wrapped her in my arms and kissed her head.

"Sleepyhead, what are you doing here?"

She opened her eyes and looked around confused. "Where am I?"

"You are in the upstairs lounge." I turned her to face me and waited for an answer.

Her eyes were still trying to focus and she seemed to be as perplexed as I was. "I don't know. I can't even remember coming here. If you must know, I'm having a hard time sleeping and I know you need your sleep so ... I guess that's why I'm here."

I made my voice sound as calm as I could. She hates what she calls my doctor voice.

"What is happening, Louisa? Are you feeling ill? This couch is not going to make you sleep any better."

"I know, but I feel comfortable here. I'm so tired." She yawned, relaxed against me and fell asleep mid-conversation.

Louisa loved this room. This is where she came when she missed Cornwall or if something was bothering her. She would just sit and lose herself in memories until she felt better.

I reached for her wrist and checked her pulse and placed my hand on her forehead to check for fever. Everything was normal. I looked closely at her sleeping body and realized she had lost weight. There could be many reasons for her disturbed sleep and weight loss and as I watched her, a million possible scenarios ran through my head. When she began burrowing into me, trying to get comfortable, I pulled the blanket around her and left her to it.

"Sleep tight, sleepyhead."

Luckily, today was my late day so I was home for a good part of the morning. She came downstairs yawning at 9 am, which was late for her. I looked up when she took a seat at the dining table, holding her head down so as not to meet my eyes.

"You know we have to talk," I told her quietly.

"About what?" She had the grace to blush although there was some irritation in her voice.

I changed the subject. We would get back to it, but not now. "Let me fix your breakfast," I offered, not pausing when I noticed that she was shaking her head vigorously.

Her phone rang and she walked towards the powder room to take the call, shouting as she left, "I'm not hungry."

I sat waiting for her until she came back to the table. I had noticed that she was getting early morning and late night calls. God knows what happened in the day when I was away. I suspected that they were from Melody and her friends, but had said nothing. Despite this Melody and company matter, I was glad she was doing something that she was good at and enjoyed.

"So, do you want to tell me what is happening. You're not sleeping well, sleeping late, always tired and today, not hungry." She looked at me for a long time before she answered with a question which she knew I hated.

"Martin, why are you worrying? I'm telling you it's nothing. I'm just tired, it will pass."

I leaned over and cradled her face with my hands. "Remember our promise to trust each other even when we are afraid?"

She refused to look at me, so I left it at that. She would tell me when she was ready and I sensed the time was drawing near.

Before I left for work, I sat beside her on the couch where she was having a cup of tea. I took her hand. "If you don't tell me, I can't help you."

She said nothing just looked at me for a while. "I'm going to The Centre this evening. Could we meet for dinner after?"

Tuesdays and Thursdays were her days at The Centre. Today was Friday. I turned to her surprised. "Is something special happening today why you're going into the city? Why not stay home and catch up on your sleep?"

"I can't. Today is a one-off. Are you trying to wiggle out of taking me to dinner?" Of course I wasn't and I gladly agreed.

* * *

I knew Martin was not pleased that I was devoting so much time to The Centre. I wasn't happy myself as I had taken on more than I could handle. He didn't know it, but on the days I was home I would get calls all day long. Listening to people's problems is not what I wanted to do, but it was a start. I hoped that one day soon, an opportunity would open up for me to use my classroom skills. I promised myself that since I got myself in this fix, I would get out of it by myself. Martin had displayed remarkable patience in letting it continue for so long and I hoped it would be resolved before he put his foot down.

A little before we were to meet, Martin texted to say he would be late and I should wait in his office.

Mrs. Green was surprised to see me. "Oh, hello Louisa, what brings you here?"

"I'm waiting on Martin. We're going to dinner." She looked at me strangely.

"I'll just wait in here," I said, pointing to Martin's inner office. "He told me I could."

"Go right ahead." She got up from her desk and pushed the door open for me. "You can take a nap on the sofa while you're waiting. There are blankets and pillows in the cupboard. They are Mr. Ellingham's."

She peered at my face. "You look a little tired. Hasn't he been taking care of you?"

When I didn't answer she pursed her lips and rattled on. "I'll be leaving soon. There's water and coffee in the cupboard over by the window."

"I'll be fine," I told her then lay back with my head on a cushion. I'm not sure when I fell asleep but the next thing I knew Martin was shaking me awake.

"Louisa, I'm here." I looked at him. I felt tired and must have looked it because he sat down beside me and reached for my wrist.

I stopped him. " I told you I'm not ill, just a little tired."

He showed me the note from Mrs. Green. "That was two hours ago. I have been here for at least half an hour finishing up paperwork and waiting on you to wake up."

"I have been feeling a little peaky. Maybe I'm doing too much ..."

"How long have you been feeling like this?" he asked quietly.

"Why do you ask?"

"There you go again, answering my question with another question."

"A little while." I saw his eyes widen. I hated when he just listened in doctor mode.

He gestured with his hand, "Stay there" and got up abruptly.

The next thing I knew, I heard him making an appointment with Nigel Singh. He wrote something on a notepad and handed it to me. It read, Nigel - 11 am, Saturday. "I'm taking you there tomorrow. He's coming in especially for you."

"Martin, you're such a fusspot."

"That I may be, but there's no negotiating your appointment." Then his voice softened. "Louisa, I only want what's best for you. Going around tired, napping in the early evening and sleeping late are significant. You have to pace yourself at The Centre. Listening to problems without the training to remain objective is stressful and will make you ill."

Not wanting to cause a fuss and to change the subject, I said, "You promised me dinner. Let's go, I'm hungry."

* * *

Dinner was at a lovely restaurant where we had been before. I had insisted on a table with a nice view to enhance our dining experience. I watched as Louisa asked the waiter for the wine list and ordered a glass for herself. With no breakfast, and possibly a nutritionally inadequate lunch, that was not a wise choice.

Seeing my expression, she said cheerfully, "It's just one glass, Martin," and proceeded rub my leg with her foot. She knew the effect she had on me and knew how to use it to her advantage. I didn't mind that my lovely Louisa was responsible for my increased heart rate, but just not now.

"Let's drink a toast to us," she said when the waiter brought her wine and my water. "Cheers."

We both ordered fish and I watched her eating enthusiastically. Well, at least she was eating.

"You must have been very hungry," I said looking at her plate which was almost empty. She was normally a slow eater and tended to dawdle, especially when she was tired.

"Didn't you have lunch?"

"Today was a busy day, no time for lunch."

"And no breakfast?" That was a rhetorical question.

I made to say something, then stopped. She had refused to answer any of my questions fully and I knew not to push her. Minutes away from home, she tugged at my arm and mumbled "Stop."

Luckily, I was driving at a moderate speed and we were on a patch of roadway that allowed me to pull over quickly, lean over and open her door. I heard her moan, clutch her belly, then discharge her dinner and God knows what else by the roadside. I rubbed her back until she was done, handed her some wipes and a bottle of water from the stash I kept in the car.

"Let's get you home quickly. Think you can make it? We could sit here a little."

She was still holding her belly. "Yes I can. I just feel weak from all that heaving."

When we got home, I didn't have to tell her to get into bed. I led her upstairs to the bathroom, helped her get out of her clothes and into the shower. While she was doing that, I made her a cup of ginger tea and brought it and a few crackers up for her.

"Drink this Louisa, it will settle your stomach." While she was having the tea, I got ready for bed.

As I leaned over to take the tray from her, she held my hand.

"I'm sorry Martin. I overextended myself and compromised my health. I'm ready to see Nigel."

I fluffed her pillow and climbed into bed beside her. "That will be done tomorrow. Also, you may wish to consider limiting your time at The Centre to one day or two half days a week."

She knew that was an order and that there was no escaping a discussion. Not after how our evening had ended.

"I tried to do a good job at The Centre, I really tried."

"I know you did. But it was never a job for you to do. You're not Social Services. The Centre is not Social Services. That's not we do."

"I was only trying to help."

I knew she was drowning, so I did the only merciful thing I could do to save her - tell her the truth.

"You're out of your depth, Louisa. It's only going to get worse. Soon you will be helping out with money."

From the look on her face, and the cash I had recently seen lying around on the dining table, her bedside table and even the bathroom counter, I knew that was already happening.

I couldn't believe my dear, sweet Louisa had allowed herself to get overwhelmed by problems she could not solve. She looked at me, begging me to stop, then her face crumbled and she buried her face in my chest.

"I'm so sorry, but Melody especially needed help."

"What is so special about her that you couldn't talk about it before you made yourself ill?"

Then it all came tumbling out.

"She's responsible for her three younger siblings when she gets home from school and two have chronic illnesses. I tried to keep them at The Centre when I was there."

"What!"

"Her mum works overtime to make ends meet so a lot of the domestic duties fall on her. Then there's her dad who has a new family. She misses him badly. Martin, we have to do something. I had to do something or Melody would be lost to Maths."

"And her friends?"

"Oh, their issues were teenager stuff. I could handle them."

The solution was all so simple if she had only asked.

"Imperial's Community Outreach office will see that her ill siblings are assessed and treated where possible. They will also work with Social Services to get the family the help they need. I'll give you their number and you can have Melody's mother call them."

I tried to soften my words by making a joke about the disastrous end to our evening. I could see that she was mortified.

"I don't understand how you invite yourself to dinner, eat, then promptly bring it up. You could have stayed home and done that."

She sighed. "I'm glad I have you to look after me.".

I pulled the duvet over us and settled in for what I hoped would be a restful night.

"We will look after each other. Now it's time for bed, you need the rest."

I wondered how we would fare navigating our trip to the village for the first leg of the _Science Is Cool _exhibition_._


	32. Cornwall

True to their word, the Board had followed through on the travelling exhibition for Cornwall and by November it was ready to make its first stop in Portwenn.

The timing suited us well because our cottage was ready. We would travel down on Thursday, and return to London on Friday of the following week. As we began getting ready for our trip, Louisa was so happy, it was infectious.

"I feel as if I'm going on a picnic."

"What is so special about a picnic? I have never been on one."

Louisa looked at me in amazement. "Never? Oh, you missed so much - the excitement of planning, preparing the food, getting there ... James used to love going on picnics. Joan would pack us lunch at the drop of a hat and we would be off somewhere."

Then a sad look passed over her face. "For a long time it was just the three of us."

I didn't like when bad memories made her sad so I changed the subject quickly.

"I know what a picnic is ... I have just never been on one. You're not planning to take food to eat in the car are you?"

"No, silly. We're going to take our time driving and stop somewhere nice for lunch."

I had wanted to fly down and rent a car to get us around when we got there. After I saw all that Louisa insisted we had to take, I had no choice but to drive.

"We are only going for a week. A quiet week. Why are we taking so many things?"

"Because we want to be comfortable and when James and Rosie join us, we want them to be comfortable."

"Haven't you taken things down already. What is this?" I asked as I opened a bag that contained bed linen and towels. "We do have a laundry facility, you know."

"Oh, Martin. I don't want to spend time doing laundry. It's a holiday."

Word had spread about the exhibition and it seemed that everyone was planning to be in Cornwall. Some of Louisa's former students, including Peter Cronk who was now a brilliant doctor in Liverpool, were coming down. So were the Fenn's and their boys, Tricia, a now slim Alison and other former teachers.

Even a couple of media houses had called to ask for information about the travelling exhibition. The news had spread around Imperial and some of my colleagues said they would be coming to support us. I don't know that we needed support, but, if they wanted a day out in Cornwall, it was fine with me. All this fuss ...

The night before our trip, Louisa was so excited that she didn't sleep well. She kept getting up to check that we had everything packed. On her last climb out of bed, I grabbed her hand before her feet hit the floor.

"You have to get some sleep. You will be of no use to yourself tomorrow if you keep jumping in and out of bed."

"I just don't want to forget anything."

"You won't," I assured her, remembering the long list she had pinned up in the dining room. As usual, she fidgeted around until she found a comfortable position then mercifully slept through the rest of the night.

At 7 am, she shouted up at me from the dining room. "Time to get up. We have to hit the road early."

I groaned, she was really behaving like a child going on a picnic.

* * *

The drive down was uneventful. Louisa chatted for much of the way until she exhausted herself and fell asleep after lunch. I looked over at her and hoped that after the debacle at The Centre with Melody and her friends, she would get some much needed rest. She woke up when we were almost there and opened the windows to "breathe the fresh sea air."

We drove straight to our cottage. I was glad for alone time with her, especially because this was her first time back for an extended visit since she had packed up and left the village for good. Hard to believe it was almost a year ago.

This was also the first time I was seeing the finished cottage. When we agreed to buy it, construction had been well underway. We had flown down for a day trip. After seeing the construction in progress and our location on the property, I was pleased with our decision to buy it. Jenny's brother had done an adequate job and had kindly allowed us to have an input in the design. We had requested universal design features to take into account our age. Louisa had been down a couple of times for quick turnaround trips and with her photos and computer models, I had a fair idea of what to expect.

The Parsons had started a garden for us and although it was almost winter autumn, we were amazed that some flowers were still in bloom. A large oak tree out front had enough leaves to create a lovely shaded, relaxation space complete with a table, a bench and a few chairs.

When we walked inside and deposited our bags in the entrance area, Louisa reached up to hug me.

"Welcome to Cornwall. Thank you so much Martin. I know we're going to enjoy it here."

"Yes, we will. Anything to make you happy." I hugged her back and buried my head in her hair.

For no apparent reason, it felt good to be back. Then I remembered Joan. She would be pleased that I had renewed my link with Cornwall and had not taken Louisa away completely. I couldn't believe that I had laid down roots in Cornwall and with Louisa as my wife.

"Anything?"

"Yes, Mrs. Ellingham, anything. Is there something you want?"

She looked at me shyly. "Would you sit outside with me for a little. I want to savour the feeling of being here with you."

I didn't really want to, but for Louisa, I obliged. We sat outside holding hands, not saying anything until I felt myself dozing off. I was tired.

When I looked across at her, she was looking at me and smiling. "You were always here in Cornwall, you never left."

"I know."

"James kept you here."

"And you too.

I reached for her hand and helped her up. "Let's unpack and get settled."

"Good idea. Jenny and Chris might be coming over."

"Ummm ..."

Driving had been tiring and all I wanted to do was relax and recover with her. I treasured this interlude with just her, before James and Rosie joined us. Still, Chris and Jenny were friends and I suspected that Louisa and Jenny might have a lot of catching up to do, leaving Chris and myself some quiet time.

"Let me show you around," she said brightening up. "We'll start upstairs."

Louisa had furnished the cottage beautifully with her "allowance," although I had insisted on funding the major purchases. I was relieved to see that it wasn't over-furnished. We would not be here that often to need a lot of stuff. Jame might be here a lot though. He was looking forward to coming on weekends, when his schedule allowed, She had sent down a few items with Jenny, including art, from our London home to make it our home away from home, she explained.

The cottage was a decent size, though not so large that upkeep would be an issue. I noticed that the ceilings were high, one of my stipulations. James would appreciate that too. The doorways were wide and high, and there was a small bedroom and full bathroom downstairs in the event that either of us became ill or incapacitated. For now, Louisa and I could use it as a study or a guest room, in a pinch. The two bedrooms upstairs had spacious storage, generous window seats and their own en suite bathroom. From the larger of the two, which was ours, we had a lovely view, above the trees, out to the sea in the distance. The eat-in kitchen was fairly large and came complete with a fireplace. Our dining table was next to a window, which gave us a nice view into the garden and this is where we ended up after unpacking.

I was happy being here with Louisa. We hadn't been married six months good, but it seemed as if we had been together for ages, which in a way was true, given that we had become parents with James.

"You have a seat and let me make you some tea," I told her.

"Not so fast, Mr. Ellingham," she teased. "Sit beside me for a minute." When I sat in the chair next to hers, she leaned over and eased herself into my lap.

* * *

I wrapped my arms around Martin in absolute contentment. Life with him was still a dream. It had taken me some time to get used to living with him full-time, but I knew we worshiped each other and believed in our marriage vows. Life without him was unthinkable.

Although I was happy to be in Cornwall, I had misgivings about returning to the village with him as his wife. I knew that some still thought of me as an opportunist. I had never really escaped the sins of my father who had stolen money from the boat fund a million years ago. Seems that story had been passed down to the next generation. Then there was Nathan. Many, Pippa had told me in confidence, had spoken ill of me burying Nathan then marrying Martin, three years later. I didn't care about the gossip. I still had a few friends there, but I had experienced a lot of gossip and mean spiritedness when I returned to the village six months pregnant with James.

Together, Martin and I would face whatever reared its head tomorrow.

Martin must have sensed that my mood had changed because he began rubbing my back. I love when he does that. It was calming.

"How does it feel to be back in Cornwall and going to the village tomorrow as my wife?"

"We'll just have to see. They can be a tough lot."

"You do know that I can drop you off and wait for you until you're ready," my sweet and understanding Martin offered.

I would have none of that. "We have each other. I'll be fine."

Suddenly, I wished to wile away the evening with him instead of talking about the village.

"Let's go into the lounge."

Martin had a better idea. "No, let's go upstairs for a nap. We're tired. I'll bring up our tea."

We fell asleep almost as soon as we got into bed, which was unusual. Neither of us are day sleepers.

* * *

After we prepared dinner, Jenny called to ask if she and Chris could come over. I told her we would love to have them, totally ignoring Martin's eye-rolling. I promised to hold dinner until they came.

In 30 minutes flat, they walked through our door.

"Glad to have you back in Cornwall, Louisa, Mart," Chris said as he gave me a peck on the cheek and patted Martin on his shoulder. "Here are some fresh vegetable, fish and supplies we thought you mind need."

Handing me a huge bunch of mixed flowers, Jenny explained with an impish grin, "This is to welcome you and Martin back to Cornwall and add a little sparkle to your holiday."

Soon, we were devouring the delicious meal Martin had put together from supplies we had either pre-cooked and brought or bought on our way out at a small supermarket near our London home. Martin and Chris washed up and tidied the kitchen while Jenny and I sat in the lounge having a catch up. Martin had put on a couple of arias, not my taste really, but they were calming and surprisingly easy background listening.

"So, I hear you were the inspiration for the travelling exhibition, " Chris said when he and Martin joined us. "Are you excited about going into the village tomorrow to greet the crew and be the centre of attention?"

I answered for myself and Martin. "Excited is not the word. We'll just be guests. We saw them working on the exhibits, Martin showed me the computer models and they are lovely. We'll only spoil it be getting in the way. Janet Simms is the primary school's seasoned and capable headmistress. It's her baby."

"Very generous of you," Chris observed dryly. "From what I hear, you planted the idea, Martin secured funding and you were the design consultant. He'll do anything for you, won't he?"

"Oh, let's not talk about the village and the exhibition. Tomorrow will come soon enough." I began feeling weary of it all.

Martin folded me in his arms and steered the conversation in another direction. It was so good to be among friends and the evening turned out to be very enjoyable. Even Martin was talking and responding to Jenny's endless teasing.

As we got ready for bed on our first night together in Cornwall, Martin pulled the duvet over us and looked at me.

"Are you happy now Mrs. Ellingham?"

"Blissfully so." I whispered.

"Sleep tight, sleepyhead. Tomorrow will be a long day."


	33. Forever young

_May you stay forever young  
Forever young, forever young  
May you stay forever young._

I had to shake Louisa awake when the alarm went off at 7 am. She had been raving all of yesterday about the fresh sea air and how this was one of the things she missed about Cornwall. I suppose that had something to do with the quality of her sleep because she slept all through the night.

"Please, it's too early. Just give me a little more time," she mumbled before turning away from me and curling up with her pillow.

Today was a big day for Louisa and I knew she didn't want to miss a minute of it. I went downstairs, finished unpacking the kitchen supplies and logged on to my computer to catch up on work. At 8 o'clock, I looked in on her to see if she was awake.

She was still under the cover and called out to me sleepily. "There you are. Come and stay with me a little."

"Another time. It's already 8 and we want to make an early start."

She jumped up screaming. "8 o'clock! Why didn't you wake me?. Now we're going to be late."

"Calm down. You have enough time to get dressed, eat and be there when we had planned. I have set you a lavender bath. Have a soak for at least 10 minutes, it will help you to relax."

She climbed out of bed and on her way to the bathroom, hugged me. "You're such a dear. I can't imagine life without you."

"Neither can I." And I mean it. Being with Louisa has given me a new lease on life, something to look forward to every day. I love my world of surgery, but it is no longer an obsession, something to fill my days. Now, my family and my life with her informs my every move. Louisa and James are my reason for being.

We kept up a running conversation while she was in the bath and I was tidying the bedroom.

"Jenny and Chris are going to meet us in the village."

"Fine."

"Do you want to visit Al while we're there? You haven't seen the farm in years."

That was true. I should go and see what used to be Joan's place and for which Al and Pauline had been good stewards.

"If we have the time, we could do that."

"Is there anything special you want to do today besides seeing to the Exhibition?"

"There are a few people I want to look in on."

"Perhaps we could split up, then." I was not going to be dragged around meeting her friends.

She came back in the bedroom, wrapped in her robe and a towel around her freshly washed hair and nudged me playfully with her elbow.

"You don't look too pleased."

"Louisa, you go meet your friends. I'm sure Chris and I will find something that we want to do."

"Some things about you haven't changed, I see. You're still not a people person."

"Mmmm." And I'm never going to be one, not like her and James, although James is only half a people person. His temperament is getting to be a lot like mine. This is why I'm glad he has Rosie in his life because like Louisa, she is a people person. They balance out each other.

"Don't look so glum. I love you just as you are."

* * *

On the way over to the village, Louisa was strangely silent.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes." She sounded unsure.

I knew she was on edge so I said nothing. Once we found parking, and before we got out of the car, I reached for her hand. It was clammy.

"Louisa," I said quietly, "We can find somewhere to sit and have tea or something before we start walking around."

She was biting her lips, a sign that she was nervous.

"Is there something bothering you, something I should know about?"

"No, no ... Yes. If you want the truth, I'm a little nervous. What if something goes wrong? " She looked worriedly at me for assurance.

"I doubt that. And if it does, we will face it together. There shouldn't be a problem with the Exhibition. The crew knows what they are doing and the young people who will be manning the exhibits are well trained. Don't worry, _Science Is Cool_ has been around for some time."

That seemed to soothe her and as we walked towards the village hall, she reached for my hand. Posters announcing the _Science Is Cool_ exhibition were everywhere. People were already gathering and I noticed that a few conversations came to a halt as we walked past. Louisa was all smiles. Still, I was curious to see how they treated her. A few people, including a couple of fishermen, looked at me strangely and nodded in my direction. I returned their greeting and was slightly amused at their shocked expression.

One stepped forward and extended his hand to me. "Hello Doc. Never thought I would see you around these parts again."

When I looked at him puzzled, Louisa said, "Martin, it's Ross. It's been a long time, but you should remember him."

"No, I don't." How she expected me to remember someone I hadn't seen in over 20 years was a mystery to me.

He was more helpful. "Doc, I'm the patient who had the thing with my breast. Same as Mrs. ..."

Now I remembered. He hadn't changed all that much, despite having aged. He still looked fit, although the sun and sea had bleached his hair blonde, and I suspected that the scaly patches around his neck could be early signs of melanoma.

An hour after our arrival, huge covered trucks lumbered into the village with their cargo of flat-packed material. The villagers and curious tourists greeted their arrival with loud cheers. The plan was to stage the exhibition at the village hall for a week, after which it would be taken to other venues around the county. Some of the exhibits would have to be set up outside under tents because there wasn't enough space in the hall.

Michael Dunwich, someone I couldn't recall meeting, was standing by to help. Louisa had asked him to be the point person because he was knowledgeable about the sciences and had taught at Portwenn Primary on and off. He nodded stiffly in my direction. Louisa greeted him with one of her wide smiles and his face lit up. She had this effect on people. While we were walking around, she had told me that Michael had befriended James and had taught him about the sciences and gotten him interested in art. Michael, was joined by Janet, the headmistress and a few of her staff. They quickly took charge, directing the crew as to where to put what for the night.

Set up would be done on Saturday, and the opening reception was on Sunday at noon. I had reservations about a Sunday opening, as I recalled that the villagers were strong churchgoers. Louisa reminded me that Saturday was a busy market day when the fishermen tried to unload their catch before going out again on Monday. People would be more inclined to come right after church and make a family afternoon of it. When what could be stored in the hall was unpacked, we met Chris and Jenny for a late lunch at what Louisa described as a very nice pub.

Seeing the question on my face when we walked in, Louisa told me about the genesis of the pub.

"It has been here for about five years. The owners, a young artist couple from London, bought their house and set up a studio in their backyard. When the house next door became available, they bought it and turned it into a pub cum retail shop for their ceramic and small furniture pieces."

"It's lovely," even I had to admit.

Jenny was familiar with the pub. "I send people here a lot. There's nothing to match it in Truro. People like it because it has a nice, quirky, London vibe. The owners are lovely, talent people who have adopted Cornwall as their home."

After we had finished our meal, Chris and I decided to visit the farm. Jenny said she would come with us, leaving Louisa to visit friends.

* * *

Someone I need to speak to is upstairs. I'm sure that neither Martin or Chris saw her as they were sitting facing the window, and Jenny doesn't know her. Upstairs is reserved for large groups or overflow from downstairs and it is too early for that.

I spot her sitting alone in a far, dark corner. "What are you doing here," I hiss.

Her face jerks up from her laptop. "Oh, hello Mrs. Ellingham."

"What are you doing here?" I hate being rude, but I don't feel the need to be pleasant. Not after all I have suffered because of her.

"I'm here for the Exhibition." When I raise my eyebrow, she clarifies, "I came down early."

If Martin ever gets wind of this, he'll kill me, but I must protect my family.

"If you ever, ever, come near me, Martin or our son, I will call the police immediately."

I look closer. Her eye doesn't meet mine, they look unfocused and she speaks with a slur. Probably been drinking, I think, looking at the glass beside her of what appears to be vodka. Why is she drinking so early?

"Listen, this is a free country, but if you don't want me here, I can leave. I have been going to The Centre long before you came to London."

This is a gift and I grab it. "Yes, leave and now." I can't believe that she has capitulated so quickly. Something is strange about her. Since the little I know about her has always been odd, I don't give it much thought.

Sally, the owner, must have heard our raised voices and comes up to investigate.

"Is everything alright, Louisa?"

"No, it's not. I need this woman to leave the village which she said she would but she's taking her time about it."

Sally is a friend and sizes up the situation. When she pulls out her phone from her pocket, the woman makes to get up.

"Let me call the constable. He will be here in a jiffy. Nobody wants trouble on what is going to be a fabulous weekend for the village."

The woman packs up her things, hands Sally some bills to pay for her drink and leaves.

"I'll talk to you later," I tell Sally as I walk outside to make sure she has left.

I'll tell Martin about this when we get back to London. No point in bringing it up now, he might say I'm hallucinating. I spot Pippa in the distance and walk towards her. I'm sure she will cheer me up over a nice glass of wine. Martin can read my every mood and I don't want him asking questions. My dear, dear Martin means well, but she has to be stopped once and for all.

* * *

Al and Pauline gave us the tour, well, more Al. Pauline was chatting away to Jenny all the time. I know Joan would be pleased. The farm was thriving and the B&B was booked out for the next month. Before we left, I excused myself and walked around a bit. So many memories. I was glad Joan had been a part of James's life. I'm sure she told him stories about my summers with her and that he made his own memories here. Once again, I knew for sure that buying the cottage was a good decision. If James ever had children, they would be able to make their own memories here.

Louisa and Pippa were having what they swore was their first and last glass of wine, when Chris and Jenny dropped me off at the pub. I didn't believe a word. Their giggle was a dead giveaway. I have strong views about grown women acting like schoolgirls, but I kept it to myself.

Pippa, as usual, could not resist getting in a word. "Hello Doc, I see you didn't forget us. Louisa tells me that you have a cottage in Truro."

"Yes."

"So we will be seeing more of you?"

I didn't know that our trips down would involve the village, so I said, "Maybe."

"That's good enough for me. Well, Louisa, Doc, see you on Sunday."

We were making our way towards the car, when Louisa asked me to walk with her to the school. She wanted to show me around and felt we should greet the rest of the staff.

I hesitated, not sure what their reaction to me would be. The short walk over was uneventful although I was conscious of pointed stares from some the villagers and of curtains being hastily drawn as we walked past.

Portwenn Primary hadn't changed much, which was unbelievable. I was impressed with their Technology Room and made a note to myself to see which elements of the exhibits could be left with the school to complement what they had. No point in taking everything back to London. The school population looked a lot less than I remembered. Louisa explained that many families had left the village in search of better economic opportunities elsewhere.

A few teachers came up and introduced themselves. One teacher, Laura, said she had attended the school, after which her family had moved to Wales. "My parents moved back, which is why I'm here. My grandmother sends her regards. She says you're still the best doctor she has ever had and she's happy you and Louisa got married."

When I looked at her blankly, she burst out laughing. "Oh, I forgot my manners. My grandmother's name is Mary Bailey. Do you remember her?"

"Mary Bailey?"

"She came to your surgery because she had experienced bloating and joint pains for a very long time. She had gone to many doctor, including Dr. Sims, and none could figure out what it was. You diagnosed it as Celiac Disease, the minute she described her symptoms."

"I remember her. Celiac Disease. Please give your grandmother my regards."

Louisa joined us in time to hear the last part of our conversation. "You remember Mary? That's a miracle. You were never good at names."

"Took me a minute or so, but after I heard her diagnosis ... " I stopped when I saw the twinkle in her eyes and caught on that she was teasing me.

"Let's go home." I took hold of her hand, said goodbye to Janet and headed towards the car.

"Mr. Ellingham, Mr. Ellingham." When I looked back, I saw Janet running after us. I motioned for Louisa to continue to the car and waited for her.

She was almost out of breath. "I'm so sorry, especially after all you and Louisa have done to get us this wonderful exhibition. We're the envy of all of Cornwall, the first to have a big London exhibition. Business is good, all the hotels and B&Bs are booked solid and yet …"

"And yet what?" I couldn't figure where the conversation was going and I didn't want to leave Louisa alone for too long.

"And yet ... people still talk ill of you and Louisa. Most, if not all, have never met you. Just village gossip, really. They said horrible things about Nathan and Louisa because they thought he was too much of a catch for her, especially after you left. James got a lot of it too. Nathan and Louisa tried to protect him but it was too much. I was the person who encouraged Louisa to leave her beloved teaching. The ill-will was too much for her and I saw where it was beginning to affect James. "

I was stunned. I hadn't noticed anything in our interactions all day that suggested the ill-will Janet was telling me about. Then I remembered. Whenever the subject of teaching came up, Louisa ended the conversation. Then there was the _Third Time's the Charm_ incident James had shared with me. So ... her own village had forced her out of the classroom and she had never said a word to me. Shame on them.

"It's alright Janet. Gossip doesn't bother us, especially when there is no basis for it. Louisa wanted the Exhibition because she cares about her village. When she was growing up here, she was the beneficiary of a great deal of kindness. That's what she holds on to. It's so nice of you to be concerned, though. This is all news to me."

Janet was visibly relieved. "Thank you so much Mr. Ellingham. She had a rough time here. "

"Call me, Martin."

"Yes, thank you Martin. See you tomorrow."

"By the way, please tell Ross that I would like him to have the rough skin patches on his neck checked by his doctor." I wasn't a GP, but I had to say something.

We said goodbye and I broke into a trot to catch up with Louisa.

"What was that all about?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing really." She seemed satisfied with that and sank into the seat, relief all over her face.

"Glad that is over. I thought the day would never end. What a day!"

As we drove out, I looked back at the trucks lined up on the Platt. "Do you think they will be safe?"

"Come on Martin, what would anybody do to them? We're still one of the few relatively unspoilt spots in Great Britain."

"I suppose so." Looking at the trucks and remembering what it had taken for us to be here, setting up for an exhibition, I felt responsible for all going well.

Even after we got home, I still had an uneasy feeling about the safety of the Exhibition. I was never given to these kinds of feelings, which made it all the more strange. Louisa scoffed at my anxiety and in her own way, managed to quiet my fears. We sat outside for a little enjoying the remarkably warm day before going inside to prepare dinner.

* * *

Louisa and I were dozing off on the couch when my phone rang.

"Mart, it's Chris. Trouble. I need to talk to you privately." I looked at the clock. It was 10:05 pm, way past my bedtime.

"No, no. Now is fine," but I did walk into the kitchen ostensibly to get a glass of water.

"All the truck tires were slashed and many of the exhibits spray painted or otherwise damaged."

"What? Slow down Chris. What are you talking about? Why are you telling me this? Have you contacted the police?"

"Yes, yes," he answered testily. "The constable, a good sensible chap, called me after one of the crew went back to check on something, saw what had happened and went to the station. The constable knows you're my friend and he didn't want to come by and alarm you and Louisa."

"Has Janet been notified?"

"Yes. She's here at the hospital with me."

By this time Louisa had joined me in the kitchen and was trying to follow the conversation.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I bellowed at him. "What has this got to do with the hospital? Was somebody attacked?"

"No need to be rude," he shouted back at me. "Look, just come and I'll explain everything."

"Why is Janet at the hospital? Please start from the beginning. What you're saying makes no sense."

"Margaret Kent is at the centre of all of this." He would say no more, just urged me to meet him at the hospital and hung up.

"Margaret Kent? Dr. Kent?"

I didn't mean to, but I snapped at her. "Yes. One and the same. Didn't you hear me?"

She changed before my eyes and got all icy. "Please don't talk to me like that, I'm not an idiot. Seems she can't stop following you around."

Why was Louisa being impossible and making matters worse. "Why are you doing this Louisa? For the last time, it's you I love. I haven't seen the woman since she invaded our home."

All the good times we had shared since being here seemed to have evaporated at the mention of Margaret.

When she saw me picking up my keys, she followed me. "I'm coming with you."

"No you won't. You stay here. I'll not be long."

"Martin, you're not leaving me alone. If I can't go, you can't. What about your promise that if things went wrong, we would face it together?"

When I made that promise, I never imagined that we would be facing anything like this, if what Chris said was true. I still couldn't understand what had really happened.

I knew I was being abrupt and the hurt in her eyes made me feel guilty but this was not the time to pander to her fears.

Then the screaming match began.

"I'm your wife Martin, please don't shut me out."

"Rubbish, I'm just thinking about your safety."

"There's no danger, we're just going to the hospital. You're treating me like a child." I knew I wasn't going to win this one, but I still tried. I didn't want her to be a part of the ugliness that might erupt at the hospital.

"Oh, please Louisa, give me some credit."

"I will, if you deserve it. You're just being your usual conservative self. You're the man, the protector and I'm some female weakling. I'm not staying her alone, I'm coming and that's that."

She reached up and held me by the shoulder. "We have to go. Please, while we're here arguing, God knows what else might be happening."

She finally got her way, as she knew she would.

* * *

I wasn't pleased to hear the name Margaret Kent in Cornwall, not when Louisa and I were there, and by the time we arrived at the hospital I was in full rant mode.

I parked in the consultant's parking area as I used to when I was a GP. Then as now, most of the spots were empty. Chris greeted me at the entrance to the hospital by pointing out that I was in the wrong parking area.

"I don't care. Let them move me if they dare. My hospital parking sticker is clear for any idiot to see." I was in a fighting mood.

"That's for London, not Truro ..." He stopped when he saw my expression.

Most of the crowd which had been there earlier had left. Chris took Louisa and I to a room where the head of Psychiatry, Maureen Lowe, Janet and the police were waiting on us. With Louisa gripping my hand tightly, they began telling us what had happened until they were interrupted by a nurse.

"Sorry to interrupt. Dr. Kent is not here. We have searched ..."

"What do you mean she's not here? Are you telling me that between the police and the hospital, you could not prevent a patient from escaping?"

Chris tried to calm me. "Hold on Martin, nobody said she has escaped. She should still be here on premises."

At the news, Louisa moved closer to me and I could hear her mumbling, to which I paid no attention. This is exactly why she should have stayed back at the cottage. It was Chris who patted her back and tried to quell her fears.

"It's alright Louisa, she will be found. No need to worry. Right Martin?"

I wished Chris had not put me in this impossible situation. I had no assurance that she would be found so I said nothing until he nudged me. I looked at Louisa and my heart melted at the worry on her face. I squeezed her hand and she looked at me gratefully.

I gave Dr. Lowe full credit for her management skills when she took charge of the situation.

"No need to panic. She will be found because she can't go far. She's heavily sedated. Now, let me share what we know so far."

Margaret had been having a series of psychotic episodes which she had controlled with self-medication.

"What did you say ?" I shouted at the poor woman. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Mr. Ellingham, I'm only telling you what I have learned from Margaret's case history, the initial interview I had with her, and what the law allows me to share. "

I couldn't help stating the obvious, I was in such shock. Poor Margaret. Self-medicating is against our Code of Ethics and simple common sense.

"How she came by those drugs is a matter for the Medical Board and the police. She couldn't have done this alone."

Louisa who hadn't said a word on the drive over or since we were here started to say "I know ... " and I stopped her. "Not now, Louisa."

Surprisingly, she didn't put up a fight, for which I was glad.

Dr. Lowe disclosed that after Margaret's marriage dissolved, she neglected to take her medications on their prescribed schedule. Yet, she was still able to function. Her supervisor was aware that something was wrong, but didn't know the extent of the problem. She allowed her to practice in controlled situations with supervision. When she had barged into my home, she was still functionally capable. She went in crisis after seeing Louisa and myself at the Genius Awards and after Viola lodged a report against her. She was sent on leave immediately until the hospital decided her fate.

Chris and I exchanged glances. Only he and I knew that Viola's efforts to help her were not possible because she was on leave from the hospital.

While on leave, Dr. Lowe said she checked herself into a treatment facility outside of London where she was still supposed to be. In the meantime, a recommendation for the revocation of her license had been approved.

She had checked herself out of the facility and driven to the village alone. Under the cover of darkness, she had savagely mutilated the exhibits and ripped the truck tires. After the alarm was raised, the police found her wandering around with bags of spray paint, knives and other instruments of destruction. She had gone berserk, was restrained, taken to the hospital and was under police guard in the psychiatric ward. Shortly before our arrival, she had been sedated, confessed and asked them to beg me to forgive her. She even sent her apology to Louisa and James.

I looked at Chris and saw the pain in his eyes. There was nothing I could do for Margaret. Nothing to which my skills could be put. When she had invaded my home, I knew something was amiss, but let it slip because saving my relationship with Louisa was more important. That slip had come back to haunt me, to hurt the person I held most dear. Chris, Viola and I had interpreted her behaviour as that of a woman scorned bent on revenge. In hindsight, it couldn't have been so. It was her husband who had scorned her, not me.

What should have been a romantic night with my wife had descended into a screaming match. And for what? For God's sake, we were on holiday, our first time away from home since our wedding.

Margaret's care was out of my hands, but I was determined to salvage the Exhibition for Louisa's sake and for the people of Cornwall.

* * *

When we got back to the car park and before I opened the door for Louisa, she drew me close and rested her head against me.

"Martin, I'm sorry, sorry for not telling you."

"Telling me what?"

"What I was trying to tell you when we were inside. I saw Dr. Kent today in the pub."

"What! Why didn't you tell me or call me?"

Then the story came out, including her reason for not telling me.

"I'm sorry for not giving you the respect and trust you deserve. I take full responsibility for all of this."

Louisa did not see it that way. "No, I should have said something. I had a bad feeling about her, myself."

Her next question had me concerned. I didn't realize how much the events of the day had affected her. "I'm worried. What if she finds us? Do you think she will harm us? Should we go back to London? What if she harms James?"

"There's nothing to fear. She's sedated, she can't get far."

It was she who suggested that we ask for help and immediately got on the phone with Jenny. In another hour or so, Chris, Jenny, Janet and Dave, the head of the crew, were at our home calling around for help. Marissa promised to leave London immediately with a few of her architect friends and whatever equipment she could round up. Janet got the overwhelming support of a group from the village, headed by Michael. Peter Cronk said he would be over in the morning, as did Roger and Maureen's twins. Al was already at the Platt and the hall organizing a clean-up crew. A couple of our friends said they would be down on the next train. We needed all the technical expertise we could get. The rest of the crew would be arriving on the 10 am train and James and Rosie would be in by noon.

As we were about to turn in at about 2 am, my phone rang. It was Dr. Lowe.

"Sorry to call so late, Martin. I thought you would want to know that we have found Margaret. She was trying to leave, stumbled in the garden when the sedative kicked in. She suffered a mild case of hypothermia, from which she will recover quickly."

It was only after we were in bed, that Louisa showed signs of strain. "Martin, please hold me," she mumbled as she cuddled up to me shivering. "I can't believe this has happened. I know I'm showing my age with all this blubbering."

"You're forever young to me, Louisa."

I'm not good around tears, especially Louisa's. All I could do was rub her back. I blamed myself for all of this and cried silently for her. She didn't deserve this.

"It's alright Louisa. Everything will be fine. Promise. I'll do whatever it takes to meet our opening deadline."

"It's not your fault. You have done all you could."

"Let's get some sleep Louisa. Things will look better in the morning."

Something unthinkable had happened to a member of my profession. A love affair had spiraled into something horribly wrong. An expensive exhibition which had been built with such hope and love, was not spared the wrath of a sick woman. Yet, there was such an unexpected outpouring of support from the village, the crew, friends and colleagues. I was amazed at how quickly Louisa had sprung into action, despite the emotional upheaval of the day. To think that I always thought of myself as the practical one. In a crisis, she had shown a side of herself that had won my admiration and enduring love.


	34. Everything I do

As I lay suspended between sleep and wakefulness, the disaster of yesterday drifted in and out of my thoughts. I felt as if my life with Louisa had come full circle. We had returned to the village together and stronger as a couple. The dragon that was Margaret had been slain, yet it had brought us no pleasure. In a strange way, it had cemented our relationship as we faced the havoc she had wreaked on the Exhibition and brought our small community of friends together.

When I opened my eyes at 7 o'clock, Louisa was not in bed. Hearing sounds downstairs, I called out to her and she yelled back at me, "Breakfast is ready. Come and get it."

I got dressed and went into the kitchen to find Louisa and Jenny preparing sandwiches. Pots of a stew of some kind were on the stove.

Our homey country kitchen looked like an industrial pantry. Huge bags of fruits and vegetables were stacked on a counter. What looked like an entire bakery of breads and pastries were piled high on another counter and assorted bags were lying everywhere.

Wondering what on earth had hit our kitchen, I looked at Louisa.

She was all smiles, and, at a casual glance, looked none the worse from our late night. "People are coming in early this morning. Don't want them to starve, do we?"

"No likelihood of that, though they may go into a diabetic shock," I said, looking closer at the breads and pastries. Today we would be playing host to the villagers, friends and acquaintances who wanted to help the _Science Is Cool project_ succeed as a travelling exhibition.

She confirmed my suspicion that an army of kitchens had been pressed into service to feed the presumed descending horde of crew and volunteers.

"This is not all. Pauline has loads of food ready and people from the village have called to say what they are preparing. Al has set up two tents; one for them to store their luggage until they can get to their hotel and a dining tent for the crew and volunteers."

"Where did all this food come from? It's too early to have gone grocery shopping."

Jenny explained that it was all her doing. "I did some more calling around after I left here last night. Most of what's here was contributed by friends who dropped them off at my house and left some on your doorstep by the time I got here at 6 o'clock."

I knew Louisa must be running on adrenaline because we had gone to bed after 2 am.

"Aren't you tired from yesterday? You didn't have to get up this early."

"No time for sleep, Martin. There's too much to get done today."

Remembering what Janet had told me about village gossip, I asked, "And you think all of this will be appreciated?"

"Village life can be difficult with all the gossiping, but in a crisis, we stick together as we're doing now."

For her sake, I wished that was true. She looked so earnest, comfortably dressed in jeans, a jumper and boots and with her hair pulled back in its usual ponytail.

Without giving it a thought, I walked over to her and Jenny and gave them a peck on their cheek. I thought of Jenny as family, and Louisa, well, she was my one true love. The Exhibition might have been her idea, but I was invested in the project and they were pitching in mightily to make its latest venture a success.

Jenny recovered first. "Please don't try to give me a heart attack. Come on, chop, chop. We have to get all this food to the village. Eat up and let's go. My truck can hold most everything, you and Louisa can take what's left in your car."

"How are James and Rosie going to get in. Shouldn't one of us stay back to wait on them?" I asked.

Louisa looked at me as if I was stupid. "James grew up in the village. He will know where to find the key."

"Louisa! That's not safe."

"This is not London. It will be as safe as it can be, under the stone beside the front step."

Knowing when I was beaten, I had breakfast, helped to load the vehicles and drove to the village.

On the way over, I could see that Louisa was in a playful mood.

As she ran her hand along my leg, she asked, "What are we going to do tonight to celebrate?"

"Let's get through the day, first."

"Oh, Martin, you know everything is going to work out."

By temperament, and after the events of yesterday, I was cautious. I was also having a hard time concentrating because Louisa's roaming hand was having its desired effect.

"I haven't seen the scope of the damage. Let's wait until then."

When we reached a bend where the road narrowed, signaling that we were about to enter the village, I gently removed her hand from my leg and placed it firmly in her lap.

"Now why would you do that? Are you afraid of what the villagers will think? I'm your wife, you know."

As if I could forget. "Yes, but let's leave some things for when we're alone and at home."

"One for the road," she said and nuzzled my neck. "Another later when we celebrate."

* * *

Instead of the chaos I was expecting with so many hands, the hall and the Platt were a beehive of activity, yet strangely quiet. The constable had cordoned off the area and had given orders for everyone to stay away. Al had the repairs to the truck tires under control. A board member had called to say that insurance would cover their replacement or repair. Peter, the twins, Michael and Dave had put themselves in charge of teams which were working quietly and quickly to salvage what could be salvaged and making note of what would be required to reassemble the exhibition.

After we unloaded the food, Jenny and Louisa stayed behind in the dining tent, leaving me free to assess the damage.

Many of the exhibits, inside and outside the hall, had not been spared. Some had wild streaks of paints over them, others which had been stored on the floor had been banged about with a heavy object and some had just been thrown around and smashed here and there. Signage leaning up against a wall had been cut up or spray painted. Boxes of small items had been rifled, their contents strewn about. The truck tires were slit with surgical precision. Given the state of Margaret's mental health, a more apt description would be manic precision. There was even evidence that she had tried to get into one of the trucks.

Luckily, we had insured as much of the Exhibition as we could and I had insisted that we use professional packers for crating and heavy-wrap. It had cost a fortune, that in hindsight was worth every penny. Most everything was insured, but of course that was poor consolation now.

I wondered how could such a diminutive woman as Margaret create so much damage in so short a time. I knew that _hell hath no fury like a woman scorned _although I didn't think it applied here. Why hadn't she wreaked vengeance on her ex-husband instead of me? By comparison, Edith didn't seem so bad after all. Last I heard of her, she had married an American well below her supposed station in life, moved to America, was as happy as she could be and was now retired after a lucrative career in "gynae".

While I was looking around, the constable came up to me and extended his hand.

"Glad to meet you Sir. I have heard a lot about you." Waving his arm in the direction of the items which were being sorted, he said, "This looks like a clear case of criminal damage."

He looked at me enquiringly for a response. Criminal charges will not be pressed against Margaret if I have anything to do with it. It's the least I can do for an ill colleague.

Remembering that Chris had described him as a sensible chap, I said, "We will handle this internally. The person who did this was ill and not responsible for her actions."

He looked at me incredulously. "You would let her get away with this? It's going to cost a pretty penny to get everything back in order."

"Whatever it is, we will take care of it. And as for her getting away with it, as I said, she's ill."

Walking away, he nodded his goodbye. "You're an even bigger man than I thought. We will do everything we can to help you get this Exhibition up and running."

Louisa eventually caught up with me. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Could be worse."

"That's true. However, I think we'll make it with all the help we have."

I looked around, there was nothing else Louisa and I could do. Not now, maybe later.

"Stop worrying. Everything is under control. Let's walk around." And with that, she took my hand and led me all over the village, greeting people as we went along.

Caroline had driven over when the news reached her. "Don't want any bad press about Cornwall, do we?" she told us cheerfully when we saw her setting up in a small tent on the edge of the Platt.

In the dining tent, Pauline was running a tight ship and had set up a first-aid area in one corner. I thought this was a smart idea. We came in just in time to hear her explaining why she had done so to a group of volunteers.

"This area is now a construction zone. People can get hurt. We need to be ready for any eventuality."

She waved when she saw me. "Don't worry Doc, we won't be asking you to help. Don't want anything to happen to your gifted hands. Peter said he would help if needed."

"Thank you Pauline. I don't think we will be short on medical help."

By midday, it looked as if by some miracle we would be ready for Sunday's opening.

Marissa and her team, along with the crew, had some unusual ideas for restaging the exhibition to mask the fact that some pieces were beyond repair. A few exhibits which were designed for indoors were now outdoors in the small school yard and made to look as if they were a part of the play area. With the help of Ross, Marissa had gotten a couple of fishermen to agree to keep an eye on a large exhibit on _Aquatic life of Cornwall_ which was now placed a ways in from the beach. Someone had come up with the brilliant idea of incorporating two boats which were under repair into the design. Their owners were more than willing to pitch in and were proud to be a part of the exhibit.

Dave had declared the _Reaching for the Stars_ Astronomy exhibit beyond repair and I had agreed. Not Marissa. She redesigned it to fit on a large, two-layer observation deck, almost as high as the school, with sturdy sides and steps which volunteer carpenters were busy building when I passed. Four telescopes which had not been unpacked, and were safely stored in the truck, will be mounted on the deck and Michael will conduct nightly stargazing sessions. A member of the Cornwall Astronomy Association had called to say they would be coming to help us. This was even better than we could have imagined in London.

When we held a review meeting at 4 pm in the dining tent, everybody who had promised to be there was there. James had found his way into the house and he, Rosie and their friends had joined the crew to help where they could.

Caroline was a godsend. She handled the media and communication masterfully. A Board member, Sally Reid, who was a former science editor and had grown up in Cornwall, joined her in the tent and together they were our rock. They made notes, prepared reports, logged progress, sent emails, texts and coordinated a team of young teenage volunteers. You name it, Caroline and Sally did it to make sure we were on course and knew what was happening. Our meeting was quick and to the point. Everything seemed to be back on schedule when we broke at 5 o'clock.

"Let's go home," I begged Louisa. "We need to recover." I was exhausted and I could see that she and Jenny were fading.

There was nothing more that we could do here. Work would continue through the night and there were more than enough hands. We heard music coming from the hall and figured the young people were having a good time as they worked. Janet's husband had come and taken her home after the meeting and we drove behind Jenny to make sure she got home safely.

* * *

After dinner, Louisa brought up the matter of our celebration.

"We got through the day, there's still tomorrow. Let's hold the celebration for tomorrow."

"Oh, Martin, don't be such a stickler."

"Tomorrow will be another long day. We need to turn in early." That's when she came up with the idea of us dancing. I didn't have the heart to tell her, no.

"Just one song," she pleaded. "Let's celebrate us, the things we do for each other, How we have stuck together with this project. I don't want us to ever take each other for granted."

Brian Adams's _Everything I Do, I Do It For You _was new to me_. _It wasn't exactly my taste, but she liked it and I liked having her in my arms, nuzzling my neck.

_Look into my eyes – you will see  
What you mean to me.  
Search your heart, search your soul  
And when you find me there you'll search no more._

_Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for._  
_You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for._  
_You know it's true:_  
_Everything I do, I do it for you._

When the song ended she reached up and kissed me. "That wasn't so bad, was it? I love you Martin Ellingham."

"I love you too, Louisa Ellingham. Now,let's go to bed."

* * *

I knew the events of yesterday had taken its toll when Louisa asked, "Can you believe that this is only our third night in Cornwall?"

I made some sort of sound and drew her closer to me as we lay in bed. We were lost in our private thoughts when she eased herself out of my arms, sat up and turned on the beside lamp.

"I need to say something."

What now? I cannot rehash all that has happened and I don't want to discuss Margaret. She doesn't belong in our bedroom.

"I feel badly about how I treated Dr. Kent. You have to believe me. I didn't know she was ill and I was afraid for us. What is going to happen to her?

Chris had called earlier with an update so I put her mind at rest. "You did what the situation warranted. You were not to know she was ill. Chris has arranged for her transfer to a hospital in London where her family can keep an eye on her."

"Will she be able to practice again?"

I doubted that since she had lost her license, but I didn't say this to Louisa. "It depends on how she responds to her treatment and the hospital's policy on matters of this nature."

She seemed satisfied with that, then she asked another question. "Did you love her?"

Besides the evening when she had barged into our home, I hadn't thought about Margaret since our night together, and that was ten years ago. Love had never been a factor in my few relationships, except maybe with Victoria. And that was a fleeting thought. I had learned to keep that part of me private. In the early days, I had never been short of dates to attend the hospital functions that Robert insisted would be good for my reputation and for the hospital. He also thought it looked better if I didn't come alone.

"Why?" I had fumed when he first came up with this nonsensical explanation. "There's nothing in my contract that says I have to attend these stupid functions, and with a companion at that."

"Don't be difficult, Ellingham. People feel more comfortable around a couple, rather than a single person at these social events. With somebody by your side, you won't be glaring at people and looking your usual unapproachable self."

Privately, I thought his real reason for pushing me into these social situations was to find me a wife.

I never loved Margaret. She was a brilliant young internist when I first met her, articulate and passionate about medicine. We met at a conference where we were presenting papers. Since we were the only representatives from the hospital, I did the polite thing by inviting her to sit with me at the presenters pre-conference dinner. After that, we kept bumping into each other at conferences, until one night she invited me out.

"If I don't, you never will, Martin."

That was true, I couldn't imagine what we had to talk about besides our shared interest in medicine, given that she was at least 15 years my junior. In time, she became a diversion from nights spent grieving over my loss of Louisa.

"I never loved her. She knew that. I enjoyed her company at first and respected her medical skills," I answered truthfully.

I sat up in bed so that I could look Louisa in the eye. "I have never felt about anybody as I feel about you. You have to believe me that you're the only woman I have ever loved."

Her face lit up. "I believe you. I have always been curious, but it wasn't fair to ask you about her. We both have histories."

"You can ask me anything. For you, I have no secrets. Now get some sleep."

I leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp on her side when she held my hand.

"The village came through for us, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did."

London seemed so far away now. I had immersed myself in village life and I didn't care. I smiled at what my colleagues, my wealthy patients and my research team would think of me down in the trenches trying to resuscitate the Exhibition. Perhaps the song Louisa choose for us to dance to, said it all. Everything I do, I do it for you. All I cared about was making my beloved Louisa happy.

Tomorrow would bring its own surprises, I suppose. But with Louisa by my side ...


	35. Ready or not

Morning came quickly and beautifully. When I opened my eyes, Louisa was asleep cuddled up against me. Last night I had told her that she was the only woman I had ever loved and she believed me.

"How could you ever doubt my love, don't you know that you're my world?" I whispered in her ear.

"What's that Martin?" she mumbled, still half asleep.

I unbuttoned her pyjama top and began caressing her breasts. Her skin was warm and soft and I could smell the lavender scent on her that had become her new favourite. She sighed contentedly and murmured, "I love when you wake me up like this."

We continued like this until she took matters into her own hands and, turning around to cradle my face, she began kissing me, working her way down to my nipples. One thing led to another and as a result, we stayed in bed longer than we had planned.

A soft knock on the door startled us. It was James. "Dad, Mum, are you awake?"

I looked around to see that the room was decent, grabbed our robes and straightened the duvet.

"One minute …Yes, we are. Come in."

James came in, followed by Rosie. Both were still in pyjamas and looked as if they had been up all night. James was carrying a tray and laid it on our bed. Espresso for me and tea for Louisa. Then they settled themselves in the window seat. This was an intimate family situation that I never imagined I would ever experience and feel comfortable about - laying in bed on a Sunday morning, having my espresso with my family around me.

This was the first time we were all in the cottage together and Louisa seized the chance to quiz James.

"Would you enjoy spending weekends here?"

"Sure. It's comfortable, private, near to Uncle Chris and Aunt Jenny, near to the airport and to the village. Driving down was easy although I had to make a couple of stops for Rosie."

Louisa was immediately curious. "Rosie, is something wrong? Martin, can you help her?" She keeps forgetting that our son is a capable doctor, as is his wife.

"Mum, it's nothing ... I, we, have something to tell you," James blurted out.

My morning had started off so well, what could be wrong now? I didn't want to know. A small sound escaped Louisa and she reached for my hand.

"Rosie is pregnant. We're pregnant."

In the far distance, I heard Louisa alternately screaming and laughing and felt her body pressing against mine and her arms hugging me all over.

"Martin, we're going to be grandparents."

I remembered my response to Roger when he had asked me at my wedding if I was ready for grandchildren. I had waffled. A grandchild was not on my radar. Yet, here in the sanctity of our bedroom, with Louisa and I in bed and still recovering from the upheavals of the last few days, I was being told that I was to become a grandfather.

I was still learning to be a father. It hadn't been easy because James was grown when he came to London. Adjusting to being a husband, and as a mature couple, had been a little easier, although Luisa and I still had our bumps in the road as we did two nights ago with our screaming match.

I vaguely remembered the only grandparent I knew, my father's father. He and my dad never got along, so there were few opportunities for our interaction. Added to that, I spent most of my childhood away from home in sundry boarding schools. He was a tall imposing man who rarely smiled and when I was around him, he would not tolerate me fidgeting. In fact, he preferred that I was seen and not heard. A surgeon, he was a cold and distant man, no model for what I now thought a grandfather ought to be. Louisa hadn't fared any better. She never knew her grandparents. Neither of our parents had been around to be grandparents to James. Mine had died not knowing about his existence. Not that it would have mattered. Louisa's father never met his grandson, but she had kept him in touch through letters and photos.

Looking at James, I vowed that in us, his child would have the grandparents it deserved.

When I focused, Louisa, James and Rosie were looking at me strangely.

"Is something wrong?" James asked worriedly.

"No, no. This is such a shock. Congratulations," was the best I could get out.

"That's not all, we have a problem," I heard James saying. I braced myself for bad news.

Rosie who had been quiet, joined the conversation. "My parents disapprove of my pregnancy and want nothing to do with me. They have cut off financial support and asked me to collect whatever little I have at home."

Louisa jumped out of bed and hugged her. "Everything will work out, Rosie. Do you know how many weeks along you are?"

"Eight weeks. I found out the day you left London."

Seven months to go. That sunk in and as head of household, I sprang into action. "Let's get dressed and we'll talk at breakfast."

* * *

When James and Rosie left the room, Louisa came back into the bed and eased herself into my lap.

"Can you believe it? We're going to be grandparents. Now we have something else to celebrate."

She was so happy that she was almost crying. "Yes, we do," I said softly. "Let's get dressed."

"You have your shower, while I look for something special to wear today."

I was half way finished when Louisa pushed her head through the door.

"Have space for one?" Of course I did. The bathroom was comfortably large as I had requested, complete with a whirlpool tub for Louisa to have her lavender baths and a separate walk in shower. I hate small, pokey bathrooms and with Louisa sharing it with me, I had them install discrete storage for her stuff.

She wrapped her arms around me, and with our bodies pressed against each other, warm water pouring over our head and down our body, we kissed tenderly. I looked at her slicked back auburn hair generously streaked with grey and thought she would make a lovely grandmother. And a beautiful one, with her infectious smile and warm, bubbly laugh.

"We're going to be young at heart grandparents, not old fuddy duddies." she declared as I massaged her with soapy water and allowed the water to wash it off.

"Just remember that this child will have parents. We're only the grandparents." Knowing Louisa, I felt I had to warn her. I couldn't see myself going to sports days, after school sports, picnics and whatever it was that grandparents did.

"Only grandparents!" she said in mock indignation. "I'll have you know Granpa Martin that grandparents play an important role in developing a well-rounded child.

"Please don't call me granpa, Louisa."

"So what do you want to be called?"

"I don't know, anything but granpa, and I have seven months to figure it out."

"Well, do you want to be called Sugar Daddy?"

I tilted her head so that the water splashed her face. "Okay, okay, I get it."

"Don't you think you're rushing ahead? A lot could happen in seven months."

"There you go again being your cautious self."

I didn't want to argue with Louisa about our grandchild, so I changed the subject. "Shouldn't we be getting ready for breakfast and the opening?"

"I suppose we could," she said smiling as her hand took liberties with my body, that only she was allowed to do. "But it's not every day that you learn you're about to become a grandparent."

I knew that what she had in mind might take us well into breakfast. "We have been in here for too long, James and Rosie might be wondering what's happening. I had promised them to continue our discussion at breakfast."

She relented but not before extracting a promise from me. "A rain check, then. We'll continue our special celebration another time. And by the way, when I'm with my husband I don't want anybody wondering what we're doing."

* * *

I got dressed first then went downstairs to prepare our meal. Our world might look better on a full stomach.

Rosie was an only child. Her dad was a successful real estate developer and her mother, a socialite. Their dream was for her to marry money or at least someone whom they presumed to be of their own social standing. Initially, they had disapproved of James as a suitable suitor and had only accepted him when they found out that I was his father, a surgeon. Like most parents, they wanted marriage first, then children. When Rosie told them that she might be pregnant, they had an argument. Her mother advised her to abort it because it would interfere with her studies. Her real reason was her fear of what her so-called friends would think.

When Rosie refused, her mother decamped to Paris for retail therapy while her father retreated into the arms of his mistress.

"I don't want that life. When I met James, he was a breath of fresh air from all the men my parents thought befitted my so-called station in life. James is supportive … we will manage."

Tears were welling up in Louisa's eyes and I knew she was remembering that my reaction to her pregnancy was my reference to an abortion. Not that I meant it.

"Everything will be fine," I said as I squeezed her hand. "Rosie and James will manage," and completing the sentence in my head, "just as you did."

"I know they will. It's just the surprise of it all. I'm very happy, you two," she said to them.

Turning to Rosie, I gave her as much assurance as I could, knowing that her parent's rejection had marred what should have been a happy event.

"It will be difficult staying on schedule with your studies, but you won't be the first doctor to cope with an unexpected pregnancy. As for financial support, that is not an issue. You and I will talk some more."

"Thank you so much Mr. Ellingham, I would appreciate that." She sounded shaky and I wondered how James felt about becoming a father. I would have a talk with him later. I hoped he was not putting on a good face for Rosie's sake. How the hell did they let this happen, anyway? They are doctors, for Christ sake. I smiled ruefully to myself. History has repeated itself.

Everything was happening so fast. Ready or not, I was going to be a grandfather, with a family that would increase from three to five, maybe six, in the short space of seven months. I tore myself away from my thoughts to acknowledge Rosie.

"Please call me Martin. We're family now."

We were still talking at the table when my phone range. It was Dave. Everything was ready. He wanted us to come down for a final walk through before the Exhibition was open to the public. That would be three hours away.

* * *

The Exhibition was even better than we could have hoped for. The damages had allowed us to recreate and restage it in its real setting. Having a team of architects on board had led to some cleaver solutions. Input from bright young people who had grown up in Cornwall such as Peter Cronk, Michael Dunwich and the Fenn twins, as well as the village craftsmen who volunteered their services, had given it special meaning for the people of Cornwall.

Minutes before the opening, Al drew me aside.

"Doc, may I have a word with you?"

I looked around, there were people everywhere. "Can we talk later?"

He motioned me away from the crowd, towards the parking lot. "No. There's something I need to say to you."

We came to a stop beside my car and I looked at him with a mixture of expectation and irritation.

"It's none of my business ... but it's all over the village."

"What's all over the village?" I had never known Al to be a clearheaded thinker except under duress .

"As I said, it's none of my business ... People are saying that the doctor who damaged the exhibits is your girlfriend and she came here to embarrass you and get back at Louisa."

"What!"

"And that's the good part. I don't believe a word. However, I think it would be proper if you explained that she did it because she wasn't well. You could do it at the opening... just a sentence. You know how the villagers love to gossip. That would put a stop to it. "

"How can I do that? I'm not even on the programme and I don't care what people want to think."

"Yes, you do. If not for you, for James and Louisa's sake. All you need is one sentence."

Al giving me advice was a strange turn of events. Yet, for my family's sake, his suggestion made sense. As for the wild tales about us, they could make up all the stories they wanted.

"I'll see what I can do." That was the only promise I could make.

At 12:15 pm sharp, Janet cut the huge ribbon in the black, white and gold colours of Cornwall, and _Science is Cool_ became a part of Cornish history. The cheers could be heard all over the village.

Janet had insisted that Louisa and I join her on stage. There were cries for speech, speech and that's when I explained briefly why Margaret had acted as she had. Ross interrupted me.

"Doc, everything worked out and the lady is getting medical attention. We cannot thank you and Louisa enough." Turning to the crowd he asked, "Everyone, please give the Doc and Louisa a round of applause.

I looked out and saw the appreciation for our small contribution. Even Louisa turned to me and joined in the applause. When it quieted, she mouthed, "I'm proud of you."

The crowd pleaser was a simulation of London's Science Museum humanoid Bionic Man.* A few geeks at The Centre had come up with the idea of building their own version of the Bionic Man. We had turned down their request. The cost, scale of the venture, lack of access to bionic technology and access to realistic human body parts was beyond our capability. There was also no point in creating a shadow of the real thing and doing that would have been impossible, if not illegal, for someone outside the biomedical profession. However, they were determined to do it and came up with a robot-like structure whose nod to realism was a "functioning" battery-powered heart that appeared to pump blood.

Children and adults alike could not get enough of it. The line to this exhibit seemed never ending. Although it was a very amateur venture, I was pleased by its reception. It elicited the response The Centre strived for: _Stop, Think and Ask_. I was thrilled to see that right there, James, Peter and a few other scientists, including Michael Dunwich, had taken it upon themselves to lead small group discussions about advancements in biomedical innovations.

I overheard a little girl talking to her mother who was dragging her away from the exhibit.

"We could get artificial legs for Granddad. He says his don't work as well as they used to work."

Her mother looked at me apologetically before she responded. "No need for that. Not yet. His legs don't work because he sits before the television all day. They will work better if he walks more."

Parents came up to Louisa and myself and thanked us effusively. So did the teachers and everybody who had any connection with Cornwall. After all that had happened, Louisa and I were grateful that everything had turned out so well. It's success augured well for the rest of the tour through Cornwall.

Peter came over to greet us. "I'm proud of you, Mrs. Tiggle."

"Oh Peter, I'm now Mrs. Ellingham but you can call me Louisa. You're old enough for us to be on a first name basis."

Peter shook his head and smiled at me. "Mrs. Ellingham is fine. I see you have not forgotten us or the school."

"Peter, we have a home in Cornwall and we will be here from time to time. As for the school, with graduates like yourself, I could never see an opportunity like this and not think about making it available."

She told him where our home was and in her best headmistress voice said, "Just call before, but please come and see me. And when you're in London, do the same. That's an order, Peter."

Peter, hesitated, then hugged her. She ruffled his hair and sent him packing with, "You'll always be my little Pete."

Before we left, I got a chance to speak with him. I always knew that he was a gifted child and had often wondered what had become of him. "I hear you're in Orthopedic and doing brilliantly."

"From you, that's a compliment, Mr. Ellingham. Thanks. I love what I do, it's fascinating. New technologies are constantly being introduced and I have used some of them at the hospital and developed a few of my own."

I gave him my telephone numbers and email address. "Imperial has a couple of conferences planned for next year and some research grants that might be of interest to you. Think about it, then call me if you're interested."

"Thank you Mr. Ellingham, I will."

After standing around patiently listening to Louisa chit chatting, we took our leave of the Exhibition.

* * *

Dinner with James, Rosie, Chris and Jenny was especially pleasant now that the worry of the Exhibition was over. Chris proposed a toast.

"To Mart and Louisa for their gift to Cornwall. Cheers."

Without warning, Louisa joined in. "To James and Rosie for making us grandparents. Cheers."

This was news to the Parsons. Jenny was all over James and Rosie, along with Louisa, and the conversation about grandparents began all over again. I didn't have much to say. It was more interesting to watch them happily chatting away and to see the joy on Louisa's face.

When he was leaving, Chris took me aside.

"This must come as a shock. You were more than your usual quiet self at the table."

"That's an understatement. I didn't want to say the wrong thing and spoil Louisa's joy. She's so happy about it. I just hope that I'll live up to her expectations of a grandparent. "

"She knows about children so take your cue from her. When you hold your grandchild for the first time, you will know immediately what to do."

I wanted so badly to believe him. "Whatever you say, Chris."

* * *

On our last night in Cornwall, I cooked dinner for Louisa. It was freshly caught cod, sprouts, beans and baked potatoes, followed by cheese and apple. It was the exact meal that I had cooked for her at my home after our first engagement.

"You remembered!" she said looking around when I brought the food to the table.

"I remember everything that happened that evening." That included how shy and awkward I had been with her at the table, dropping the ring and scolding her for adding salt to her food. I knew from her smile that she was remembering too.

"Well, at least I now have the ring," she teased, holding it up to me for inspection.

"You have more than the ring. You have me, my undying love and now a grandchild."

"You're so right, Mr. Ellingham. Everything I have is all I have ever wanted."

After dinner, Louisa and I sat around the table talking. We had packed most of our belongings and stacked them by the door, ready for our trip home tomorrow.

"Can we make our last night here memorable?"

"It couldn't get any more memorable. The Exhibition, becoming grandparents ... Auntie Joan would be impressed. Ruth is beside herself. She can't imagine being a grandmother at her age, because that's what she'll be, for Joan, she said."

She leaned over, sat in my lap and whispered in my ear. "Not that kind of memorable, silly. Memorable between us. You do realize that this has been a sort of honeymoon for us?"

"Honeymoon? With all that has happened, one after the other?"

"Then let's slow down the pace and make it a real honeymoon."

The offer was tempting. She had dressed up for dinner in a red top which fell away from her shoulders invitingly, exposing her soft skin, and a pair of black slacks and her favourite red boots.

"Please come up to bed with me," she said as she unbuttoned my shirt and ran her hands over my chest.

"It's too early. What if someone calls?

"Oh Martin, this is not the village. Nobody turns up at your door here. If you're worried, we'll turn off our phones and lock up the house. For those who can't reach us tonight, there's always Christmas when we return."

She didn't need to persuade me any further. I held her hand and allowed her to lead me upstairs to make sweet memories.

*Modelled after the Million Dollar Bionic Man unveiled at London's Science Museum in February 2013. The world's first complete bionic man, comprising artificial organs, synthetic blood, robotic limbs and a human face. And as if that's not enough, the artificial man can speak and listen, too. It was part of the museum's _How much of You Can Be Rebuilt_ exhibit (Digital Trends, February, 8, 2013)


	36. My vow

We are sitting in the guest room, temporarily converted into a nursery, trying to get the twins to bed. They are teething, have been fretful all evening and are probably missing their parents. We, actually Louisa, offered to keep them for the weekend to give James and Rosie a much needed break. Alex and Ana play tag with each other. When one dozes off, the other wakes up and vice versa. Finally, in desperation we take them to our upstairs sitting room and flop down with them in the couch, Louisa at one end, me at the other end. She begins reading them some silly story about a wiggly piggie who lives in a tippy tip house on a hippy yip farm. It's all nonsense to me but the sound of her voice seems to calm them. Alex the angel goes down first. Ana the rebel twists around in my arms until she finds a comfortable spot then follows her brother. We're too tired to get up and put them in their cot. Exhausted, we fall asleep holding them.

I can't hear Ana crying, but I feel her hot tears running down my arm. I pull her closer to me. "Ana, Ana, why are you crying? Why are you doing this to us?" I reach to feel if her gum is still tender ...

There are no babies, no Alex and Ana. Louisa is cuddled up in my arms and the tears are hers. Instantly wide awake, I eased myself up against the bed head, turned on the beside lamp, lifted her up against my chest and began rubbing her back. "Louisa why are you crying?"

"It's James. He's no longer my baby. He's going to have his own baby, his own family. It used to be just me and him for a long time and now he's gone forever. It's just us now, Martin."

"Louisa, James has been grown for a long time. What brought this on? I thought you were happy that he and Rosie are together and that they are having a baby?"

She raised her head and looked at me teary-eyed. "You don't understand. He's going to be a father, have his own life separate from ours. When the baby comes, there will be someone else claiming his attention. With his family and work, he won't have any time for us. Then there might be other babies ..." And she went into a fresh round of tears.

Of course I understood. My lovely Louisa was having to face the prospect that our family dynamics was about to change. It had sent her into a meltdown. I knew this had to come at some point. She had been on a high since our return from Cornwall where we had spent Christmas. It had been an emotional time for her because it was also the anniversary of our engagement. I had insisted that we spend most of our time alone, relaxing at the cottage, yet she still managed to chat for hours with sundry friends. On her return to London, she had found a new focus at The Centre that I was happy about. I thought she should have taken a few months off after the Melody and company debacle, but after much persuasion, she agreed to limit her visits to once a week. Then, there was the ongoing excitement about the baby.

Since we had been together, it had been one event after the other and it had taken its toll. She was already thinking about James's birthday in June, which was also our anniversary month and the baby was expected the following month. Because we were late bloomers in the marriage department, we had compacted a lifetime of experiences into a little under two years.

"James is coming for dinner this evening? Would you like to share your fears with him? There's no point brooding." I thought they were groundless, but I didn't say so.

"No, no. I know I'm being silly. You're the only person I can talk to about this."

"You're not being silly. You're having separation anxiety as James moves into another phase of his life. It's a natural feeling and it is just as natural for him to have his own family and new priorities. Deep down, you know that you and James have a special bond and nothing will change that. He's a good son. He cares about you and he wants you to be happy. "

I gently wiped the tears from her face, pulled the cover around her and continued rubbing her back until I felt her relax. She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair.

"You're so good to me. You never laugh at my fears. You don't say much, you're a doer and I like that. I love you so much, Martin. I love James and Rosie and I want them to be happy."

"You have to promise that you'll slow down. London can be a madhouse and it's easy to get on the merry-go-round without even knowing it. Now, why don't you go back to sleep, it's too early for us to be up. We'll talk some more about this later."

I had my own fears. I was dreading the talk I planned to have with James. What would I do if he said he didn't want Rosie to have the baby and was only going along with it because that's what she wanted? Who was I to pass judgement given my sorry history with his mother? Louisa had assured me that when we began talking I would know what to say. James could be an Ellingham through and through, which meant that he could be stubborn. I fell asleep rubbing Louisa's back and hoping that, like hers, my fears were unfounded.

* * *

James came by earlier than planned while Louisa was finishing up dinner and I was in the study.

He stuck his head through the door. "Is this a good time? We have to talk."

"Perfect. Uhm ... I also want to talk to you."

"Should I close the door?"

"If you wish. We will be private, your mum hardly ever comes in here." I remembered that the only times she had been in here for any length of time was when I had invited her in for our private after-dinner party and our money talk.

He closed the door and went right to it. "It's about Rosie. Well, her pregnancy. We can manage financially, but she's stubbornly independent and feels she has to carry her share of the expenses. Nothing I tell her will convince her that we can manage on what we make now and when the baby comes. She's moody, misses her parents but won't talk about it. A lot of this is hormonal but that doesn't make it any more tolerable. Is this how it is going to be until the baby arrives ?"

I hesitated to answer because I didn't know. Louisa hadn't allowed me near her when she was pregnant. I shuddered remembering the outbursts she had direct at me and the cruel things we had said to each other. Mine was from hurt and rejection. Hers was hurt and rejection as well as hormonal.

"Mmmm ... Honestly, I don't know. I suspect a lot of it is hormonal. Give it a couple of weeks and if there's no improvement, have a talk with her doctor. Your mother may be more helpful here. The important thing is to continue to love and support her."

This was all working out as Louisa said it would, so I took the plunge. "How do you feel about becoming a father? Does Rosie know how you feel?"

"She knows I support her decision to have the baby and I try to tell her this as often as I can. I do as much around the house as I can to take the pressure off her. It's not as if we even see each other that much, now. As for becoming a father, I have mixed feelings. I'm still trying to get used to the idea."

The last thing we discussed was Rosie. "If she has always been independent, she's not going to change now. Your mother is just as independent and the only way she accepts help from me is if I insist. It that doesn't work, I bring it out in the open for a discussion. Find out what is driving her to be so independent."

James already knew. "Her mother is financially dependent on her father and Rosie has always said that she never wanted to end up like her."

* * *

After dinner, Louisa wanted to know how everything was going with James and Rosie now that they were about to become parents.

"It's going well, all things considered. The main difficulty is that we are too busy, the time is not right. I never wanted my child's life to start out with unmarried parents and I'm not ready to take that big step. Other than that, I respect and support her decision."

"There's never a right time, James," Louisa said gently. "You and Rosie will get married if and when you're ready. The most important person now is the baby. Do you love her?"

"I do. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with her, if that's what you want to know, and I want to help her through this pregnancy. I want her to be the mother of my child."

"Then, that's all that matters."

"I know you're wondering how this happened."

I stopped him. "No, we're not."

Louisa chimed in mischievously. "We know how babies are made, we have had some practice. Your dad is a doctor, remember? And I'm a mother." She was trying hard not to laugh.

"You must think I have been careless."

"No, we don't. Stop beating up yourself. You know how your mum became pregnant despite the precautions we took. Things happen."

I think he felt he had disappointed us and wanted to explain, anyway. It came out in bits and pieces. Rosie had been so busy that she had skipped the pill a few times and he had gotten careless, also from being busy, from taking his own precaution. Their big concern was whether a baby would disturb the delicate balance of home and their grueling work life.

Louisa shared what she hoped was good news. "The Board has approved my proposal for a small nursery/daycare at The Centre. I'll have a significant hand in staff selection and have already found a lovely young woman from Cornwall, Beth who I met at my pre-wedding party, to manage the day-to-day operations. The baby could always come there. It's near to the hospital for Rosie to pop over for feedings when she can. Would this resolve some of your concerns?" she asked.

"Maybe. Rosie and I would have to talk it over. "

"And of course you know I'm always available for babysitting."

"Within reason," I added quickly. "Children belong with their parents, not babysitters."

I thought back to when Louisa was pregnant and how much I had wanted to be a part of James's unborn life and here he was, in love with Rosie, had our support and was fussing about timing.

"James, you have been given an incredible chance to be a father, to co-parent with a woman who loves you and has chosen to have your baby. Give it some thought. We'll help as much as we can and your mum will see that the baby gets the best care at the nursery."

"I'm sorry for sounding grumpy. I just don't want him or her to start life as I did."

There it was. Every now and again, the pain of his childhood would seep through and I would feel incredibly guilty.

"James!" Louisa was angry. Everything went quiet, James held down his head. "You had your difficulties, but your life wasn't as terrible as you think. " She softened her tone by putting her hand around his shoulder and leaning on him.

I felt I had to apologize to James, again. I didn't agree with Louisa. Perception is everything. "I'm sorry, James. I did the best I felt I could do. Now you can rewrite that history by giving your child what you would have wanted - both parents present, hugs, photos of silly or important events, bedtime stories, seeing your child through illnesses that you both are eminently able to handle and be there for the simple everyday things that will take on special significance because it's your flesh and blood. Be grateful, James."

He looked at us and said, "Sorry."

Louisa got up from beside me and sat between us on the couch. She put her arms around us and in her most cheerful voice, insisted, "We're going to do this as a family. What's in the past is in the past. Martin will speak with Rosie and help her to work out her schedule. You just be there for her."

Then she began tickling him. Soon they were rolling around on the couch and he was hollering at me for help.

"Dad, get your wife off me."

"My wife, your mum." I was pleased that Louisa had rescued me from that awkward moment when I had cringed from my son's unspoken accusations.

When he was leaving, Louisa handed him two packages. "These are dinners for a week. All you have to do is heat them up."

I could see that he was embarrassed. "You don't have to do this. Rosie and I are not on the dole. We can manage. You shouldn't exert yourself doing for us what we can do for ourselves."

"Nonsense. This is the least I can do to make sure that my grandchild has a good start. Instead of cooking, you and Rosie can use this extra time to relax. And when since did you refuse food from your mum?"

He hugged her and whispered sotto voce, "You know the way to my heart, don't you? Thanks."

* * *

Resolving matters with Rosie was easier. When I checked with Mrs. Green about the lunch reservation, she handed me an envelope.

"These are the people Rosie has to talk to, paperwork, possible make-up classes, etc. There's a list of her chief and supervisors. You know them and may wish to have a word with them. You do so at your own risk. If she gets wind of it she might kill you. I have registered her in the antenatal clinic and spoken with her "gynae."

I opened the envelope and quickly glanced at its contents.

"I'm sorry, I'm not clear about how this became your job." Sometimes it seemed that Mrs. Green knew more about my life than I did.

"Mr. Ellingham, we have been working together for many years. I know your strengths and your weaknesses. Surgery is your strength. Period. Maybe marriage, but it's early days yet, so let's leave your strength at surgery. Over the years I have helped James in ways you would never guess …"

"You didn't need to. It's not your job. You have enough work to occupy your time instead of taking on jobs for my family. "

"I had to," she fired back "and you definitely need my help to navigate the hospital bureaucracy."

That was true. Although I had promised Rosie to help, I didn't have a clue about where to begin. I was going to speak with Viola, but Mrs. Green had risen magnificently to the occasion.

"Now, please don't keep Rosie waiting. She has rounds, you have surgery this afternoon," and with that Mrs. Green shooed me off with a twinkle in her eyes that did not escape my attention.

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"You're welcome."

I left thinking that perhaps Mrs. Green had too much time on her hands. I was never sure what the hell she actually did, and didn't want to find out. Not now with my grandchild on the way.

Rosie was sipping a cup of tea when I joined her at the restaurant. It was secluded, reasonably quiet, had good food, and we could talk without fear of interruption. Mrs. Green has wisely asked for a table in a quiet area and I sank down in my chair grateful for the calm.

At four months pregnant, she was glowing. Her loose-fitting clothes hid her pregnancy. Her thin frame had filled out and she had allowed her hair to grow out, so it now framed her face, almost like a blonde halo.

"You look ... healthy. Everything alright?"

"Yes, Martin, I'm fine and hoping I can make it through the next five months. Thankfully, my morning sickness is tapering off. If only Dr. Snow was not so disagreeable. If only my legs were not swollen from being on my feet all day. If only I could find clothes that fit. If only James did not hover over me so much," she said with a rueful laugh.

"I get it. Dr. Snow is not as bad as you think. I'll have a word with her. She had twins during her residency. "

"Twins! … Oh, my God. I'm sorry for complaining. "

I could see what James was talking about. She had moaned a bit, yet, it was all sweet music to my ears. This was the nearest I had ever come to having a pregnant woman in my life, and one who I got along with, and I was determined to savour every minute of it. I liked Rosie. She reminded me of a young Louisa. I knew she would be a good mother and make James happy. I felt protective about this feisty daughter that I had inherited and knew Auntie Joan would have liked her.

After our lunch arrived, I found myself telling her about Joan and Ruth. She actually laughed at some of their escapades which in telling her, I thought were actually funny.

"James told me about your childhood and how you and Louisa got back into each other's lives. You both are our inspiration for the kind of love James and I would like to experience."

"Lots of work Rosie, peaks and deep valleys." This seemed a good time to talk about her and James. "Have you and James discussed the changes the baby will have on your life and how you're going to deal with them?"

"Yes and no. I know he has reservations and that I treat him horrible sometimes. Blame it on hormones, I can't seem to help myself sometimes. He has been very supportive and I'm grateful, although I might not have shown it as much as I should. I will try to do better in this department. Why? Has he said something to you?"

"Not directly, but I know this will be a testing time for your relationship."

She didn't say anything more, and I was relieved. I would never disclose what James and I had discussed. Call it parent child confidentiality.

She hadn't made any reference to her parents, so I brought it up.

"Any news from your parents?"

"Not a word from either of them. A few days ago, luckily I was home, a few boxes arrived from them. If that was their way of making a point, they have done themselves a disservice. It's like throwing me out of their house."

"Oh?"

"I love them, I really do. They are my parents. Their marriage is not going well, it's actually spinning out of control and I suppose that having failed to control their wreck of a marriage, they are trying to control me."

"Have you thought that it may take them some time to come around, if ever?"

"Yes, I have and I don't care anymore. I have been a good daughter, a good student and I'm working hard to be a good doctor Can you believe that in this day and age an abortion would be a deal breaker? What if this is my only chance to have a child? Their only chance to have a grandchild? I love your grandchild more every day in ways I never thought was possible. I can feel it growing in me, taking on a personality and becoming a real person."

She reached inside her handbag. "I saved this for you and Louisa."

It was a sonogram of our grandchild. Luckily, its sex could not be ascertained from the picture because neither parent wanted to know. I still had James's sonogram, the one I had taken from Louisa to look at more closely. It was faded now, but I had memorized it so it didn't matter. It was safe in my study, tucked away among the many pictures she had sent me of James.

My grandchild, already perfectly formed. Healthy. I looked at Rosie with shining eyes. Seeing my joy, she took my hand and placed it on her belly. "The baby has been active all through lunch. Feel here ... There it is."

I removed my hand. It seemed so intimate a gesture.

Rosie was adamant and reached for my hand again. "Don't be silly. We're doctors, remember?"

I felt the baby kick and smiled. She smiled back at me, with tear-filled eyes. "This life growing inside me is what makes me strong."

"I'm sorry, I asked about your parents. Let's not dwell on that."

Lunch over, we discussed some practicalities. It didn't seem as difficult as I had expected, but I warned Rosie that she might have to defer her graduation. "This will not be the end of the world. A break may be the best thing for you and the baby."

"You don't have to worry about me making the wrong decision about my baby. My priority is my child and I think I'll be able to handle both. Some friends have formed a study group for me and will fill me in if I have to miss classes. Dr. Snow is arranging for me to be Skyped into a few classes, but interaction with patients, as you know, is a vital part of my training."

"And your schedule? I know it's out of your hands. Still, are you and James able to be home together, especially at nights?"

"At first, yes. Now it's crazy. James will be on night duty for a while. The plan is either to sleep at the hospital to be near him or do all-nighters in the library. I hate being home alone."

"Neither sounds acceptable. I'll speak to Louisa, I'm sure she won't mind what I'm going to suggest. Please consider spending the nights you're alone with us. We will feel better if you have company. We have the space, you will have your privacy to study. Think about it and talk it over with James."

Satisfied that I had done all I could, well, Mrs. Green really, we left for our respective obligations at the hospital. Before we left the table, she reached up and gave me a peck on the cheek, catching me off guard.

"Thank you, Martin, I feel so much better. I don't know what I would have done without you and Louisa. I'm finding out that your bark is worse than your bite. You do know that the registrars live in fear of your reviews?"

"And so they should if they want to be great doctors," I retorted with a half smile. I really liked Rosie.

"Call me when you wish. I'll do whatever I can to help, and even if you're not staying over, come and visit us. "

* * *

Louisa was fairly hopping about with curiosity when I got home after a procedure on which I was the consultant became touch and go when the patient went into cardiac arrest shortly after getting on the table. The team had done their best which had been more than enough.

"Dinner is ready. Want to wash up?"

"Yes, thanks. I'm starving and still on an adrenaline rush. I'll have to start slowing down. I hate bringing my work home," I said as I hugged her.

"Yes, you will," she agreed. "Especially now that you're going to be somebody's grandfather."

That I still couldn't imagine.

After dinner, I shared my conversation with Mrs. Green and Rosie. She was ecstatic at the possibility of Rosie spending nights at our home. "You're quite a softie for suggesting it. I know the real you under all your grump and reticence. I'm surprised that you showed that side of yourself to her. You must really like her."

I brushed her suggestion aside. "She needs all the help she can get. Something has to be done to make sure she stays on course and that help is near if something happens. She wants to take care of herself, I'm sure. With her schedule and the changes in her body, it's going to be hard." I couldn't help pointing out that she seemed mature for her age.

"And so she should. She's actually two years older than James and girls tend to mature much quicker than boys."

This was news to me. "I don't understand. They started and ended med school at the same time."

"So they did. Remember that James had skipped two years in high school and he got into Imperial through their special Early Enrollment for Gifted Students programme."

* * *

Then I remembered. After James completed his application, I reviewed it and asked Mrs. Green to make a copy and mail it. Without my permission, she read it and returned it to me with a note asking that I redirect it to a different department and included the address. I was livid. I was trying to keep my relationship with James private. Luckily for her, the information was correct. When a colleague from the Early Enrollment panel called to verify that James was my son, I tried to be as polite as possible in answering his questions. I in turn had questions of my own.

"How did you know he was my son? Please don't think I want any favours."

"James doesn't need favours. His remarkable grades and outstanding extra-curricular performance would have gotten him in anyhow. I had called his mother and his high school to verify certain details on his application and discovered that his biological father was a doctor. After our initial interview with him, I just put two and two together. Martin, as you know, nothing is private around here and your reclusive life makes you an irresistible target for gossip."

* * *

I realized Louisa was still talking. "I'm sorry for Rosie's parents. They are missing so much. We get to be with Rosie, to welcome the baby into our world, be a part of its life, to spoil and cuddle like real grandparents. You get to hold your grandchild and to be there for every event. This is your chance to see what it was like for me and James."

Surprised at what she had said, she smiled apologetically. Those were almost the exact words she had told me when I was about to leave the village for London, leaving her heavily pregnant with our unborn child.

This time, I would do everything in my power to show my grandchild that he or she was wanted and welcome. I vowed to make up for not being there for James with my grandchild.

Louisa broke the sadness that had descended on us by kissing me on my cheek. "I understand. Those dark days are not worth remembering."

My beautiful and forgiving Louisa. Her warm eyes full of love stared back at me. I knew she would teach me how to look after my grandchild as she had taught me so many other important things.


	37. Life was perfect

The first time Rosie came over had been awkward. We, more me, fell over ourselves trying to make her feel welcome. Louisa said I was treating her like a Dresden china doll. We had never been alone with her. James had always provided a buffer.

These days, we had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Louisa came up with the brilliant idea to turn my study into a temporary bedroom to give her some privacy. The first night of this new arrangement, I checked in on her before going upstairs to bed. She was half asleep in bed with books, notes and her laptop spread out around her.

"Why don't you go to bed then get up early tomorrow to study? You'll be rested and able to grasp much more than you can in your fatigued state." That seemed the perfect solution as she wasn't going to get anything done at the rate she was going.

"That doesn't work. I can hardly get up in the mornings. I'm always tired, I barely make it out on time." Seeing my shocked expression, she laughed. "Don't say it, I'm managing. Your darling son helps out a lot and Louisa sends us nice home cooked meals from time to time. Your Mrs. White coming in once a week to clean is Louisa best idea to date. I'm living the pampered life of a spoiled woman, if you want to know."

I would speak with James about her nutritional intake. Doctors make terrible patients and I didn't think her schedule gave her much time for anything more than work and study. In the meantime, I came up with a temporary fix. "This might work. You take a nap for an hour and I'll come back and study with you for another hour or two."

She would not hear of it. "Martin, I know you're trying to help. You and Louisa have done more than enough by having me over. Plus, I know you always turn in early. What would Louisa think if I took you out of her bed? I'll just learn to cope."

"I don't do this all the time. In a few months, this will be over."

She relented when she saw that I was not going to budge, especially when I spoke in what Louisa called my surgeon voice.

"Well, thanks. I could do with a little help. I don't seem able to concentrate that much anymore."

"That's to be expected and you know that."

* * *

This is why Rosie was propped up in bed, with her eyes closed, and I was reading her a BMJ article about innovations in Surgical Oncology. When I was finished, she opened her eyes.

"You make everything seem so clear. I never saw it quite that way."

"That's the only way to see it given the research profiled in this article."

I know I was fussing, but I could see that she needed more support. I reached for one of the extra pillows Louisa had placed on a chair. "Please let me elevate your legs. You'll have to be vigilant to avoid preeclampsia."

"Thank you Doc Martin," she teased.

I liked studying with Rosie. It reminded me of the nights I had sat up with James in the early days and the joy I felt when I broke down a complex concept into small ideas that he could understand. Some nights James joined us and we would discuss medical issues until I reminded him that Rosie needed to get adequate rest. Except for studying with Chris and one or two other colleagues, I was a solitary learner. I had picked up this habit out of necessity when I was a boy. When I got older and developed an interest in medicine, my father avoided any discussion on the subject. It was some time before I realized that I was way ahead of him in theory and in time, my surgical skills reached a level that he would never be able to attain.

Over the months with Rosie, I watched her gain weight as the baby grew, saw her adjust her movements to match her protruding body, picked up on her moods and felt the happiness she radiated as each day brought her closer to her delivery. I began getting used to the idea of having a daughter, because that's how Louisa and I thought of her. Even Louisa noticed.

"I'm glad you're here for Rosie. I never had my parents around and it was tough. Dad tried, but that couldn't work. I hope that one day her parents will reconsider their position. You're going to make a wonderful grandfather. Look at how you and her have taken to each other. Look at the difference it has made to have her and James here so often. We're one big happy, family and you made it work."

I protested. "We are one big, happy family whether they are here or not." Truth is, I had never lived with anybody before and was still adjusting to living with Louisa, having James pop over to visit and Rosie coming over a few times each week. To my surprise, I was beginning to enjoy having a full house.

Studying with Rosie and James was easy. However, I still had my moments of insecurity about becoming a grandfather. Now I had to meet the expectations of my family. What if I didn't get it right? The nearest I had come to being around babies was the odd occasion when I visited the Parsons. Laura and I took to each other immediately, but our interactions had been brief, especially when she was a baby.

Louisa saw the worry on my face and kissed me on my head. "Don't worry, Martin. You're going to be the best grandfather ever. Neither of us had any grandparent role models, so we'll make up our own rules as we go along and break them when they no longer serve us."

My dear sweet, kind Louisa. She had made all of this possible. I had gotten her and James back in my life, gained a daughter, a home that was happy and I had the pleasure of listening to their voices filling our home with laughter and chatter. Life was perfect. I was afraid for Louisa though. When the baby was born, it would be just us again. When that time came, she might find it lonely being at home. Having Beth as the manager for the nursery/daycare was working out. She had been trained in Cornwall before coming to London. Still, I arranged for her to sit in on a few classes on Childcare at one of the clinics at Imperial. Hmmm ... We would cross that bridge when we had to.

I had been having the niggling thought that perhaps my time at Imperial was coming to an end. I didn't expect Isaiah Bent to remain as my assistant forever. He was younger than me and was a suitable replacement. Still, I didn't want to leave surgery completely. There were any number of projects from which I could select one, maybe two, which would be far less demanding than my present workload. Imperial had no plans to let me go completely. They were still basking in the glow of their current "Genius."

Turning her around to face me, I kissed her on her cheek and caressed her beautiful face with my fingers. Her twinkling eyes made me smile and brought the familiar quickening of my breath.

"Yes, we will make our own rules and break them as we please. I love you Louisa Ellingham."


	38. Beautiful boy

Zee and Marissa had invited us for dinner. Louisa was excited about going, especially because Jenny would be there. I wasn't really interested in these dinner events, too much idle chatter. To please Louisa, I had accepted the invitation on our behalf.

She was standing before the bathroom mirror brushing her hair when I came in looking for my cuff links which I had left on the vanity top.

"Louisa, we should have left ages ago. You know I hate being late." Louisa still hadn't caught up with London time.

"It's a 7 pm dinner, Zee said it would be informal. It's only 5:50 pm, we're right on schedule and we don't want to be the first guest to arrive. It's good form to give your host a 15-minute breather"

"We're not on schedule. I want to go early and leave early. I told you that I have an early meeting tomorrow and, at the very least, I would like to start the week right. As for giving your host a 15-minute breather, they should specify the time they really want us to arrive."

Ignoring my whining, she asked, "Here, please zip me up."

It was then that I really looked at what she was wearing. It was a deceptively simple looking, glamorous, short sleeve cocktail length black dress that seemed to have been sewn on her because of how it clung to her curves. It fitted her not in a lewd way, mind you, just right for her body. The impractical high heel sandal she had on made her legs look long and elegant, a fact I'm sure she knew. Louisa enjoyed dressing up and often told me that she did so to keep me interested. "Have to keep the romance alive." I'm still amazed that she had aged so beautifully. Tonight, especially, she looked younger than her years and, for more times than I could count, I thanked my lucky stars that when the night was over, she would return home with me.

"Are you sure that your dress is appropriate for a dinner?" When her face froze, I hastened to correct any misunderstandings. "The dress is fine. It just shows up your lovely body and I don't want anyone ogling you. Can you stand for long in your shoes?"

She responded with a tinge of annoyance. "Yes, I can stand in my shoes." Seeing my contrition, she smiled. "I'm glad you noticed what I'm wearing. It's good for you to see me dressed up sometimes. We need to get out more often."

Holding out for my benefit a pair of flat shoes that folded on itself in half and could hold in her small evening bag, she said, "I was a Girl Guide … always prepared. Plus I have a shawl if there's a chill. You know how unpredictable the weather can be."

I took the brush from her hand and placed it on the vanity top. Pulling her back against me until I felt the contours of her body etched in mine, I reached inside her dress and around her waist and began caressing the sensuous mound of her belly and other places where my long arms could reach.

She pressed into me, responding to my touch, yet tried valiantly to pull me back from the secret places I wanted to go. "I thought you were in a hurry to leave. When we get back will be time enough."

"Just a minute," I whispered as I began nibbling at her ears. She grabbed the brush and gave me a little whack.

"Easy does it. We'll continue this when we get back home. Promise."

"Let's call and say we can't make it. Something has come up," I begged. I didn't want to share her with anybody this evening, not after the wave of desire that had begun coursing through me as I felt the soft, warm undulations of her body.

"You know we can't do that. They are our friends."

"Sod that. They will understand." I drew her even closer, hoping she would relent.

"No, they won't. We hardly do anything with your friends. Let's go, now we're really going to be late."

Reluctantly, I removed my arms from inside her dress and zipped her up. She asked me to fasten the simple pearl necklace I had given her for Christmas, then she put on the matching erring.

"How do I look?"

"You know how you look," I said hoarsely and pulled her into me again. "You look beautiful and exceedingly desirable as you always do. I'll be salivating all night until we get home, if I can last that long. Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

She gave me a mischievous smile. "Where did all this lust come from? We have been here all day and you have spent most of it locked away in your study. I could have done with some attention today."

"You should have said." I groaned, remembering how much time I had put in on a presentation for my 8 am meeting tomorrow. This was one of the few times I had locked myself away in my study on a Sunday. Usually, Sundays are reserved for whatever Louisa wants to do or we just spend time together as a couple.

"No harm done, the day is not over."

* * *

Zee and Marissa lived in a townhouse in the heart of London. The first floor housed Marissa's architecture practice and Zee's kitchen. Parking was surprisingly easy and by 6:55 pm we were walking up the few steps to their second floor lounge.

"Glad you two could make it," Viola said cheekily as we stepped through the door holding hands. "Martin, you deserve a medal for coming out tonight. Looks to me that you could find better things to do at home." She was clearly referring to Louisa who was still glowing from our little encounter in the bathroom. Viola liked to tease and I think she took pleasure in making Louisa blush as she was now doing. I knew Viola long enough to know that she meant no harm and was just having a bit of fun.

"We have to come up for air sometimes, you know" I retorted.

"You're in fine form tonight, Martin." Looking over at Louisa, she stated the obvious. "In that outfit, you're going to have a hard time keeping your husband's hands off you."

Louisa couldn't resist a saucy response. She was in that kind of mood, it seemed. "And who says I want his hands off me? I can't get enough of him."

Viola didn't miss a beat. "Whoa. Somebody needs to get a room."

"That's why we're leaving early," Louisa fired back with an innocent smile.

Jenny joined us. "That's telling her, Louisa. Although you will admit that your outfit ... Is there a little seduction going on here? I can see how your little black dress must be making Martin wild."

"That the intention, Jenny."

Realizing that neither were going to stop the teasing unless we got to safer ground, I dragged Louisa towards the drinks table and got wine for her and mineral water for myself.

Soon, Zee and Marissa came over to greet us and said dinner would be served in fifteen minutes.

I knew everyone in the room, at least by sight, and set about introducing Louisa, after which we sat at a table, big enough to seat the 14 of us.

"May I have your attention, please," Marissa began over the low hum of voices. "Welcome to our home, glad you could make it. Zee has a few culinary surprises in store for you so be prepared to enjoy. Today being July 14, and with only 14 of us here, let's applaud ourselves, the magnificent 14. For one, there's the beautiful Louisa, the love of Martin's life." She paused to acknowledge the cheers for Louisa. "Then there's our esteemed Genius, Martin Ellingham himself. Martin is not known for being a social butterfly, given his whirlwind schedule and certainly not now that he has Louisa to keep him company, so we're glad that he could grace us with his presence." She stopped when the clapping got too loud and Louisa looked as if she regretted coming. Marissa brought the table to order.

"That's it. Enough ribbing for the night. Louisa and Martin, we're honoured to have you with us," she said in her gentlest voice. "Please, a toast for Martin and Louisa, our honoured guests."

Dinner was lovely and Louisa was enjoying herself. Although she didn't say much, she was the centre of attention as everybody was especially welcoming to her. I enjoyed the attention she was attracting and kept looking at her, as if to remind myself that soon she would be all mine. At around 8:30 when we were in the lounge having coffee, my phone vibrated. It was a text from James. _Rosie in labour. Come now_. I must have gone ashen in the face because Louisa and Viola leaned over to read the text.

Viola sprang into action. "Okay everybody, Louisa and Martin are about to become grandparents. The mum is already in labour. Bill, please call the hospital and speak to the powers that be. Zee, please call a cab for them, we'll follow in their car and Ed, you had better see that your team doesn't muck it up."

* * *

Somehow, we managed to gather our belongings and walked outside to await the cab. We drove in silence, interrupted only by Louisa's fidgeting. I felt her anxiety in her cold and clammy hands which held mine tight and held her in my arms to quiet her fears. Years of medical training and the high pressure of surgery had taught me how to suppress my emotions and work off adrenaline. Still, my head was buzzing with a million thoughts. What if the baby didn't make it? No, James and I had kept a sharp eye on Rosie's progress and everything was going well. What if the baby had birth defects? What ifs, what ifs, what ifs … I felt as helpless as when I had seen Louisa in hospital last year, unable to remember who she was. Now I was just another grandparent but one who knew too much about the possible dangers of childbirth for his own good.

When we were almost there, Louisa found Ruth's number and gave me her phone. "You need to tell her Rosie is in labour."

Yes, I should. Another Ellingham was about to enter the world. Aunt Ruth picked up on the first ring. "Louisa, is something wrong?"

"Ruth, this is Martin. I'm using Louisa's phone."

Without waiting for me to continue, she asked in her no-nonsense voice, "Is she ill?"

"No, no, sorry to bother you. Rosie is in labour and we're on our way to the hospital. We thought you would want to know."

"You did the right thing, Martin. Please let me know when the baby arrives, no matter when. I won't be able to sleep, anyhow." And in the soft voice which I had only heard when she spoke to James, Aunt Ruth said, "Please give Louisa my regards and keep an eye on her."

Luckily, Ruth was a woman of few words, so I was able to get off the call quickly.

It wasn't hard to find Labour and Delivery, even though my visit to this part of the hospital was limited to using it as a shortcut to another department. There were families milling about in the waiting area and hospital personnel scurrying around. This was so different from the controlled world of surgery. Louisa must have sensed my discomfort because she gave my hand a squeeze and flashed me a shaky smile. James met us at the door with his usual inscrutable face. We were relieved to hear that Rosie was comfortable and that the birth was going to be quick.

"Mum, Dad, would you like to be in for the delivery? Rosie said you would be welcome." I looked at Louisa questioningly. She nodded her head.

Then James made me the offer of a lifetime. "Dad, we know this would mean a lot to you and we would like you to hold the baby right after he or she is born, if you like."

I was overwhelmed by their generosity. Of course I would like to hold my grandchild. I would be in the delivery suite and my medical knowledge might be useful. Deep down I knew that was not why they had bestowed this honour on me. He and Rosie thought that seeing their child being born and holding he or she as they entered the world was the closest I would ever get to experience my son's birth.

Louisa answered for me, "He would love to."

Louisa and I scrubbed and were gowned before we went inside the delivery room. Rosie smiled tearfully when she saw us and held out her hands to us.

"I'm glad you're here. My parents couldn't make it ... I was hoping that they would have changed their mind but ..."

Louisa hugged her. "I'm so sorry Rosie, but we're here for as long as you need us." I nodded in agreement. To hell with her parents, I wanted to know how far along she was.

"I have been here since 5 o'clock. The contractions began when I was doing my last exam this morning, but I stuck it out and also did ward duty. Some friends brought me over, then I called James. No point in worrying him too early. The baby and I are healthy and I don't expect any complications. It's going to be quick, I'm almost fully dilated," she said with a low moan as pain gripped her. James began rubbing her back until the pain subsided.

From then on, everything happened fast. The midwife was a certified, competent, cheerful professional who kept a watchful eye on Rosie and showed James and I how to help her with her breathing. Except for when I had no choice but to deliver Isobel's baby when I was the village GP, this was all new to me. I had expected screaming, groaning and writhing about and when I shared this with Rosie, she looked at me in astonishment. "This is clearly not your field. The music you hear is what I requested, as is the home-like atmosphere here with its comfortable seating. I'm a doctor and understand the value of a hospital birth, but I also wanted the comfort of a home birth environment."

I was surprised at how easily Rosie switched between joking around and concentrating on her breathing. My respect for her deepened. She only broke down in the last 30 minutes when the struggle to bring our grandchild into the world was at its most intense. James held her as she cried on his shoulder, while Louisa and I gave her words of encouragement, held their hands and ours, alternatively, and sometimes our breath. The room was calm, almost ethereal. Nothing prepared me for the wonder of giving birth - the superhuman marshalling of strength, the concentration of effort by all, followed by the joy and relief when the baby's first cry signalled that a new life had entered the world.

Neither parent had wanted to know the gender of their child. When he announced himself with a loud cry, Louisa and I could only gape in wonder. The midwife bundled him into a blanket and gave him to his parents. After cuddling him a bit, they handed him to me.

Louisa was a cross between tears and laughter as she held me around my waist and looked at the baby. "This is exactly how James looked when he was born. Same screwed up face, same sounds he made, same curly blonde hair, same wrinkly self, same expression, same everything. He's a beautiful boy. You too did a great job."

So this is what I had missed. What if I had stayed around for at least James's birth … how would my life have looked? I remembered Veronica's_ the obstacle is the path_ and kissed Louisa.

"Now you get to be his granddad, to spoil him, to watch him grow," she said encouragingly.

I had never held such a tiny life in my hands. I looked at the baby nestled in my large hands and saw my genes, the life my son had helped to create and whom he was entrusting to my care. For a few seconds, time stood still as the surgeon in me did a quick visual check of his health and the emotional grandfather saw himself passing over into the next generation. The baby began wriggling at all this scrutiny. Reluctantly, I gave him back to Rosie, leaned down and kissed her on her cheek. "Thank you for giving us this precious gift. You were wonderful."

"Wonderful? I feel like a wreck, a happy wreck," she said with a forced grin.

I took her hand and gave it a squeeze, knowing that she was missing her parents. "Yes, you were wonderful and you'll always be wonderful to me."

"Thanks. Having you and Louisa here made me feel that I could face whatever my parents have in store for me."

James shushed her. "Not now, Rosie. We'll deal with whatever happens, if it happens. Let's talk about more pleasant matters, like what are we going to call our son." They looked at each other, then she asked us shyly if we liked the name they were considering, Martin Nathan Ellingham. Louisa answered yes for me, I was too choked up to respond. Vaguely I remembered that there would now be three Martins – me, Laura's son and now my grandson.

To hide the tears which I was trying to contain, I latched onto the chaos the name might cause. "There's going to be endless confusion with two Martin Ellinghams around, at least when he's small. Please consider giving him another name or changing the order of his name."

James patted my back. "No worries. We're going to call him Marty. That's what Granma used to call you. It's my way of keeping her in my life and Rosie agrees with me."

Good old Auntie Joan. Her great-grandson would have loved her. He will be a Londoner, but having a bit of Cornwall in him will be a good thing.

Outside in the waiting room, we were greeted by some of our friends from the dinner, James's and Rosie's friends and even Veronica. I half expected to see Mrs. Green since she had taken this on as her personal project. When Louisa and I came out smiling, a loud cheer went up. Chris and Jenny asked if they could pop their heads inside to see the new parents, just as James walked out behind us. I saw tears pooling in Chris's eyes when he hugged James and whispered, "Congratulations, son." My heart swelled with pride. This was my family. Chris had been a part of every important event in my life since we met in medical school. It had to be more than coincidence that he was in London when my grandson was born.

As usual, Viola took charge and managed to quiet the crowd with the promise that she would arrange for them to see little Marty when he was taken to the nursery for cleaning up and that the wait wouldn't be long. How did she know this? She must have seen my puzzled look, because she mouthed at me, "I have friends in high places."

Later when everything had quieted down, Rosie was moved to a private room, which Mrs. Green had insisted on arranging. James would be spending what was left of the night with her, so we thought it best to leave them and their son. Before we left, he said he wanted to have a word with us.

"I know I have been difficult at times and you both have been patient with me. Thanks for putting up with me, for accepting Rosie into the family and for sharing Marty's birth with us. I'm glad he had all the family around that mattered to welcome him into the world."

"Oh, you weren't difficult. Typical father reaction. Martin and I are grateful that we could share this moment with you and Rosie. This was the most precious gift you could ever have given us."

I didn't know how Louisa could assure him that his behaviour was typical. When Auntie Joan had called to say that Louisa was on her way to the hospital and again when James was born, I had politely told her thanks for letting me know and had sent flowers and an extra cheque to cover whatever expenses she had incurred for his birth. Inside I was hurting and terrified. To escape the pain and isolation, I had volunteered for double shifts and weekends for a very long time. I groaned at the memory.

Louisa took my hand. "Let's go. It's way past our bedtime." Then she turned to James who was seeing us out. "Who's going to help look after Rosie and the baby?"

"I will. The hospital gave me a few days off. Her friends will also help."

"No, no. When Rosie is discharged tomorrow, she's coming to our home. We have plenty of space and that will give you both time to rest. Being up at nights with a baby will not be easy."

James was relieved. "Thanks. That takes a load off my head. I have Practicals in another two weeks."

"Has Rosie finished her shopping for the baby?" she asked.

"I'm not sure that she ever began. I think she was expecting her mother to help her with that. Mrs. Green got her a few items, though."

"That's fine. Your father and I will pick up a few things tomorrow morning."

Louisa had been secretly preparing to have James, Rosie and the baby stay with us. I had seen her and Mrs. White rearranging the furniture in James's room as well as the guest room but thought it best to say nothing in case the new parents to-be had other plans. I guess I could put up with a crying baby and even help out. She had done it alone with Joan's help. It was my time to play my part.

"That's settled then," I told James. Before we drove off I remembered that I had promised to call Ruth. She picked up on the first ring.

"Boy or girl?"

"A boy. Martin Nathan Ellingham."

"Good. When I call my lawyer tomorrow he'll have a name to work with."

"Ruth, the baby will be well provided for. No need to go to all that trouble."

"Not at all Martin. I'm happy to stand in for Joan's great-grandson. Now you and Louisa must be exhausted. Talk to you in the morning."

* * *

We got home long after midnight. After completing our ablutions, we sank gratefully into bed. Louisa had been emotional all night and cuddled up to me with a tearful sigh. "I'm so happy, so very happy."

"Happy about the baby?"

"The baby, yes … Martin, you have made me happy in ways I cannot count, ways I never expected. Thanks to you I have James and now Marty."

I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. Emotion and physical exhaustion had loosened the grip I kept on such displays. In the sanctity of our home and the security of our love, I whispered, "Thank you for giving me a family, Louisa. You have made me the happiest man in the world." She held me tight and allowed me the sweet relief of tears.

As he drifted off to sleep, Martin told himself that the third time was indeed the charm. First it had been his son whom he had always loved from afar, then having Louisa back in his life as his wife and now his grandson.


End file.
